Dealing with a Marauder
by darth spots and darth stripes
Summary: I sighed. How did I get here again? Oh yeah, that’s right. I forgot my wand and James Potter was born." Lily makes a deal with James Potter, notorious Marauder. Will Hogwarts lose all sense of sanity? ... Probably. A LJ Fic featuring much Maruader fun..
1. Those Without Wands Be Warned

Dealing with a Marauder

**Chapter One: Those Without Wands Be Warned (in which Lily contemplates the beginning of the end)**

I honestly don't know how I get myself into these situations. No one else seems to. It's always me. The perfectionist, fiery, redheaded goody-two-shoes. Everyone else, for example, an enter a toilet cubicle without the toilet paper deciding to go on vacation. Unfortunately, I am me (smart cookie, aren't I?), and I find myself in that very situation on what is proving to be a rather terrible Thursday lunchtime.

Normally, being a witch and all, I'd just use magic to conjure some toilet paper. But naturally, the day I find myself in this somewhat terrifying situation is the one day I've (stupidly) left my wand sitting on my bed. I repeat: smart cookie, aren't I?

"Fuck, fuck, _fuck._"

Not much point saying that out loud, since the bathroom is empty, but the situation just calls for verbalising obscenities.

My mum always says how cursing gets you nowhere.

I contemplated this for a while.

She's right. Here I am, still stuck in my cubicle. Damn eh? Using the 'f' word hasn't gotten me out of here.

Which I must do. I must scheme to get out of this goddamn toilet cubicle – I mean, I can't stay here forever, right?

No, I definitely can't. Ew, I can't believe I just actually considered living in a toilet cubicle for my whole life.

Okay – so back to me getting out of here. Realistically, I have two options.

Option one: Be disgusting (no details are really required here) and just skip that step in my bathroom procedure.

Option two: Wait until someone enters the bathroom and ask them to pass me some.

Being Lily Evans, I'm taking a liking to the second option – it presents a higher level of personal hygiene, and a perfectionist needs her (or his) hygiene.

Hm. Seems rather unproductive sitting here doing nothing.

Five minutes…

Oh goodie, the bell for the end of lunch just went.

Sweet Merlin, thankyou. As I've established – living in a toilet cubicle is definitely not my goal in life.

Surely people would be flocking to the bathrooms soon. It's the end of lunch – it's like peak hour for bathroom-use.

Any second…

Okay… soon…

Come _on_ people.

I can't believe it. What _is_ this place?

Hogwarts yes, I know, but doesn't anyone drink and consequently need to pee?

This smells a lot like a case of Murphy's Law. The one time you _need_ mass amounts of people to be lining up to the toilet is the one time it is deserted. Much like the aforementioned "leaving wand behind" syndrome.

Or how the one day you forgot to do your homework (not that I ever forget, but let's just say hypothetically) is the one day the professor checks it?

Life sucks, no?

_Bang._

What the bloody hell was that?!

Yep. Explosion confirmed – the shrieking has begun.

Once there's shrieking then you always get - … rapping?

"_Yo check it out Hogwarts:_

_We've got here houses – just four_

_You know most of the story, but we're here to tell you more._

_Ravenclaw's smart and Hufflepuff's cute,_

_Slytherin's as retarded as a blast-ended screwt,_

_But there's one more house that you should know,_

_And that's Gryffindor – we make the show,_

_Here to rock your socks,_

_And show those Slytherin co - people,_

_We're brave and proud,_

_Not scared to be too loud,_

_We've got the ideal mix,_

_We'll kick those Slytherin di – heaps,_

_One day you'll be like us maybe,_

_But til then we say to you: GRYFFINDOR PRIDE, BABY!_"

Hah! That's right – GRYFFINDOR PRIDE. Oh wait – I'm supposed to be a prefect. Oh well, I'm stuck in a toilet cubicle. I may take a temporary break to enjoy the humour of the situation.

I wonder who did it, not that it isn't obvious.

It's probably the bloody Marauders again. FYI – the Marauders are the resident pranksters here at Hoggy's.

I have mixed emotions about them – they're half annoying, half hilarious. I generally choose to display my disapproval rather than my amusement though, because after all I'm a prefect and I have to uphold school values and such.

I'm pretty sure laughing at the breaking of rules doesn't fall under that category.

Anywho, someone has just opened the door! If I was not sitting down, I would totally do a victory dance.

Unknown enter-ers (I can invent words as I see fit, thankyou very much!) are talking. Obviously I'm eavesdropping, it's kind of hard not to in an otherwise silent bathroom.

"Bloody brilliant, Prongs! Worked a treat – did you see their faces?!" Unknown Person One speaks.

Headless flying hippogriffs – _that voice is male._ Not to mention it sounds suspiciously like Sirius Black. I could have a hernia right here, right now.

(Chuckle) "Why thankyou Padfoot! But of course my ideas always work. I think the success of this particular one is emphasised by the sheer innovation of the prank. And who'd have thought something as simple as singing sludge," Unknown Person Two gloats (I would say speaks, but it's too arrogant to be considered speech).

I am almost certain that Unknown Person Two is James Potter. That prat has been chasing me for years. After a million rejections you'd think he'd get the picture. But alas! – it is not so. He insists on asking me out, as well as threatening anyone else who asks me out with no less than painful torture followed by the killing curse.

Thus, even if I did have other guys chasing me, they are somewhat driven away by the Boy Insisting That (being) Charming Helps (get me to date him). BITCH for short.

Okay, so that abbreviation isn't that great. At least it gives me a chance to call him a bitch.

"I reckon. The Slytherins will be _seething_. Seeing their housemate say such things about their house. And it wasn't just as simple as singing sludge – we had to get Remmy to freeze him remember?"

"Speaking of which - isn't Moony supposed to be along soon? He's taking an awfully long time."

"Yeah. I spose."

"They'd better be along soon or we'll get caught for this one…"

"Erm, Prongs?"

"…which'd be pretty bad because it's such a success and all, and McGonnagal didn't see us, so there's no way we'll get detention…"

"_Prongs!_"

"What is it Padfoot?!"

I'm thinking the same thing. What is Black so uptight about?

I heard a gasp, then silence.

The air is suddenly a whole lot thicker – you know how it gets when someone realises something? Yeah, like that.

Someone's stepping closer. Fu - lobberworms.

I am hereby abandoning my sense of hygiene and fully clothing myself due to a May-day. I have reason to believe Unknown Persons One and Two are approaching.

I _will not_ suffer that kind of humiliation, especially in front of the likes of James Potter and Sirius Black.

The footsteps suddenly stopped. I think I've stopped breathing. That's not good.

God it's quiet in here – you could hear a pin drop.

Okay, so nothing's happening.

Screw this, I'm not waiting any longer. I have pride and dignity and confidence. I am Lily Evans, for Merlin's sake!

I open the door forcefully, feeling it connect with something hard.

Unknown Persons One and Two are no longer unknown. They are most definitely Sirius Black and James Potter (respectively), and they are most definitely… clutching their heads and displaying expressions of pain?

Oh right. I hurt them when I opened the door. Ha!

"Merlin, my nose! It's disfigured! No longer am I Sirius-the-sex-God-Black."

I don't care how much pain he's in – I can't help it. I roll my eyes.

All Potter could manage was a loud grunt. Wow, how intellectual of him.

He looks really sore though. I'm feeling a tad guilty. I'd best apologise.

"Sorry it's just – I – you weren't supposed to be there!"

Half way through my apology I decided it wasn't really my fault. I mean, they shouldn't have been right outside a door, which is bound to be opened.

"I _don't_ care where I was supposed to be! This is my nose here!"

I mentally snorted (real snorting isn't very becoming). He's not self obsessed, not at all.

"What he _means_ to say is you look very stunning today, Miss Evans."

Aww how sweet – not! I gave him my best "ice cold glare" (It's so perfected I named it).

"Before you ask – answer's no."

"How did you know I was going to ask?"

"Potter, when do you not?"

"Touché."

Honestly, I know this guy too well. Pretty much every conversation we've had has consisted of him asking me out, and me refusing with some slightly scathing words, hoping to drive him away.

Black and Potter picked themselves up from the ground. Black examined his former sex-God nose in the mirror, pulling out his wand and stopping the flow of blood with a simple charm.

"And I'm back to sex-God status," Black announced, styling his hair and still checking himself out in the mirror.

I had another mental snort. He is so obsessed with his appearance, for a guy.

Woah, wait a second…_guy_. Black is a guy!

No I'm not stupid, what I'm trying to say is that he's a _guy_ in the _girls' _bathrooms. And so is Potter. They're on female territory!

I nearly growled. Like, actually growled.

"Wait a minute – what the _hell_ are you guys doing in here!?"

A valid question if I may say so myself.

"Well, very simply – we're hiding whilst waiting for Remus and Peter to meet up with us," Black answered honestly. Or what I think is honestly anyways.

"And just _why_ are you hiding?"

I know it's a stupid question – but I want to hear them say it. That was I can used my perfect prefect authority on them.

Potter feigned disappointment.

"Damn, did you miss the song Evans?"

I pulled a face at him which was probably very ugly, but he just grinned at me. Bloody prat. Be _repulsed_ already!

"No, I heard the song. Unfortunately, I was unable to see it. Care to fill in the blanks? If I was there what would I have seen, hm?"

I put on the best tell-the-truth-or-face-my-perfect-prefect-wrath face.

Black examined his nails casually.

"Well, being the clever sods that we are - "

Haha. Sods indeed! I never thought I'd agree with Sirius Black.

"- we managed to body-bind Snape, shove singing sludge down his throat and allow him to rap our wonderful creation for the whole corridor!"

How the hell did they manage to brew singing sludge? It's such a difficult potion! Oh wait – they're the Maruaders. They have Remus Lupin on their team…

They could do anything they liked and get away with it. Prank everyone in the school, and entertain people and get back at their enemies – especially Snape.

Oh hold on. Inner prefect kicking in right about now.

"You WHAT?"

"Now, now Evans – no need to get mad. No one was hurt -"

Potter had some nerve saying that. I walked over to the sink and began violently washing my hands. Perhaps that's what cut him off. Or perhaps it was my angry ranting.

"I don't _care_ if no one was hurt, you broke about three school rules. Not to mention that Snape is, in fact, a human being – despite what you may believe. I ought to report you to McGonagall."

I crossed my arms to make me look a little more authoritative.

"No you won't Evans."

I snapped out of my authoritative stance immediately.

Merlin, Black was so _menacing._ Part of me is actually really scared right now. Just that tone he uses! It's perfectly freaky. He should really become a judge in the ministry or something – he's scare the truth right out of anyone.

"Yes, I _will. _I can, I will."

Great answer. Oh well. I have an excuse – fear down to my bones.

I made to exit the bathrooms, but Potter blocked my move.

"Get out of the way Potter."

He smirked. _Actually_ smirked. Why was he smirking?!

"No Evans, you can't tell on us. It was a harmless prank and you're making a big deal out of it."

"It is my _duty_ as prefect to uphold school rules and make sure -"

"Oh really? Who. Cares."

I glared at Black.

"I do!"

I indicated to myself for emphasis.

"Evans, I swear – if you tell I will .. you'll regret it."

Black had that evil glint in his eye. And I was suddenly very frightened. After all, with a surname like "Black" you have to have the Evil Glint down pact.

The way he enunciated each word made me very aware of the fact that I was wandless in the girls' bathrooms with James Potter and Sirius Black – not exactly people who didn't know a few nasty hexes or whatnot.

"That sounded very much like a threat, Black."

Hopefully the coldness in my tone hid the terror inside me.

"Padfoot, cool it - " I don't think I've ever been more thankful to hear Potter's voice "- Look, Lily, what will it take for you not to tell?"

His features were completely serious, but I couldn't be sure of his motives. He _is_ a Marauder.

"Are you bribing me?"

"No, I am merely proposing that we make a deal."

Okay, so he's bribing me. I paused, considering the concept.

Oh, I can't resist a good bribe.

"Okay. What is this proposal of yours?"

He gulped, rather visibly.

"I won't ask you out for one month, if you don't tell."

Oh my God. This has to be a joke. James Potter? Not asking me out?

"Are you serious?"

"No, I'm - "

I sent Black the biggest "shut up" look I could muster. Potter had done the same.

"Yep. I'll stop a-asking you out for a month if you don't tell McGonagall."

I contemplated this. I mean, if I tell McGonagall what do I get in return? Nothing. So…

"Alright."

"But if you do tell – you have to go on a date with me."

I don't think anyone can grin lopsidedly quite like James Potter.

"Okay."

It was not like I was going to tell on them anyways. He was starting to look a little shocked by now, but he grinned even more.

"This applies to all our pranking though – you can't dob on us, deduct points from us or give us detentions for any of our pranks. Deal?"

Woah. That's an awful lot they can get away with…

Damn Potter. He knows I won't back out! And I won't.

I sighed. How did I get here again? Oh yeah, that's right. I forgot my wand and James Potter was born.

I sighed again.

"Evans…?"

Oh I guess I'd better answer him.

"Deal." I shook his extended hand.

"Am I free to go now?"

"Oh. Yeah, sure."

He nervously ran his hand through his hair and stepped aside.

I felt a secret stab of jealousy towards him – how was it that he could run his hands through his hair and still have it look perfect?

Well. Admittedly it is messy…. But it's a good messy! Hmph.

Realising I should probably stop staring at him, I cleared my throat and said goodbye. My mum says it always pays to be polite.

I walked briskly out of the bathroom and down the corridor, with the oddest feeling that this deal was the beginning of the end.

How dramatic of me.

**A/N**: And there you have it. Chapter one of my new Fic. I kind of need a name…since this one is gay and all – so suggestions are welcomed!

Just so you know a bit about how I'm going to write this: As keen observers, you may have noticed that this is written from Lily's point of view. The next chapter I am thinking will be told from James' and then I'll do some other characters (probably Sirius and Remus) and then go back to James and Lily's perspective. I expect that this fic will be anywhere from 7-10 chapters depending on how much I can think of to write. Ha.

Well, I hope you liked it – please review, because reviews equal love.

--- Michelle


	2. A Master At work

_**A/N: So here's the second chapter. Just before you read, it's from James' perspective, not Lily's. And, obviously, I don't own the Harry Potter series. Just thought I'd mention that because I forgot to last chapter. I hope you enjoy this one… I don't think it's that great – probably because I went to Billy Talent's concert and I'm a little dazed at the moment (they rocked!). If you ever get a chance to see them – TAKE IT AND MOSH, my pretties. Okay, well that's all from me. Enjoy!**_

Chapter Two: A Master At Work (in which Transfiguration lessons are fun!)

Sirius and I returned to the common room after our little run-in with Evans. We arrived to find Remus sitting with a book in his lap, and Peter staring into the unlit fireplace.

I fell into a seat, as did Sirius.

"We waited _ages_ for you guys!" Remus greeted us in what he probably thought was a warm tone. Unfortunately for him (and us, I spose), it came out rather angrily.

"Correction: _we_ waited ages for _you,_" Sirius said dramatically, indicating all over the place. I swear that boy has problems with saying things normally. He always acts like he's on stage or something… drama king. I tell you – I constantly feel upstaged.

"No, we specifically agreed we'd meet here," Remus pointed to the floor, as if the gesture was proving what he was saying to be true.

I noticed that we were technically arguing (Remus and Sirius were glaring at each other in frustration), and decided (like the dedicated and loyal friend that I am) to end it now before wands became involved.

"Hey – guys – cool it. Who cares? We just performed a highly successful prank. We should be celebrating!" I punched the air as I said the last words, hoping to inspire my friends.

Unfortunately, instead of the desired "YEAH PRONGS!" effect I was going for, I received three 'you're a retard' looks accompanied by the type of silence in which you hear the crickets. Except that was kind of ruined by the other people in the common room. Still, the point is it _would've_ been silent, and there _would've_ been crickets.

"I suppose you're right," Peter finally said.

I looked at him in shock – I had support. Hoorah! Good old Wormy, you can always trust him to agree with you!

Sirius suddenly broke out into barking mad laughter.

Now it was his turn to receive what was quickly becoming a very popular look – the 'you're a retard' look.

"What?" he said as if he had not just broken into hysterics.

I don't think he can pull off sincere to save his life.

"Our pranks rock," Sirius said.

I have to agree with him there.

"Yeah - that was the best prank you've ever thought of, Moony," I said, beaming at him.

"And it was perfectly executed – we're not in _any_ trouble this time!" Sirius said, lighting up like a third-year discovering Honeydukes for the first time whilst performing his 'victory dance of doom (whilst sitting version)' (which was more of a spasm than a dance, and had absolutely nothing to do with doom).

Remus smiled, only hinting at the pride I knew he wanted to display.

"Thanks guys, but, as always – it wouldn't have worked without my fellow Marauders!"

I sat in the following comfortable silence considering what he'd just said. It was true – we were a team, even if it sounds frightfully … homosexual. Nothing could come between us, I mean, we are the Marauders. We practically have theme music.

Once again, Sirius began laughing hysterically. I'm noticing he really has a bad habit of doing this… It's a wonder girls aren't repulsed by his apparent insanity.

He sobered up a little, noticing our inquiring looks, or rather our 'you're a retard' looks.

"It's just – Snape – his face - " he said trying to breathe properly, before promptly bursting into laughter again.

I chuckled.

"I bet the Slytherins will give him hell for ages," and I do. There's nothing Slytherins hate more than Slytherins hating Slytherins. Woah, that hurt my brain.

"Of course! He's such a slimy git – even they know that…"

Remus scowled slightly. Despite his hate for Snape, he still felt that respect is important. Even though he came up with the prank… but I think that was more to display his intelligence.

"Oh come on, Moony – you know it's true!" Sirius said, obviously noting that Remus was not as enthused by the concept of putting down Snape. "Won't you have his expression stuck in your head for ages though? I wish I had a pensieve… then I could save it!"

Remus broke his composure and joined in with our laughing at Snape's expression, which Sirius was now re-enacting.

"I wonder how he manages to be so grotesque," I mused.

"Yeah, me too. See, I have this theory - " Oh no, whenever Sirius has a theory, it means everyone should hold their breaths and duck for cover " – he's a boy right?"

I immediately wondered where the hell this was going. Knowing Sirius, it could be anywhere this side of Jupiter. On second thoughts, it could be anywhere any side of Jupiter.

Wait – that's anywhere. Oh dear. I should really stop thinking.

"Well, 'boy' backwards is 'yob'. And Alas! This is no coincidence!" - Always the entertainer, he held up his hand with his index finger extended – "'yob' is like 'yobbo'! So Snape is a yobbo! But he's also a boy! See!?"

My best mate has completely lost whatever he used instead of a mind.

"But you're a boy, Padfoot…" I jabbed him in the chest, more because I felt the need to than anything else.

"Ah, but that is where you -" he jabbed me back, the prat "- my friend are wrong."

I raised an eyebrow.

"So you _are_ a girl?"

I received a punch in the shoulder for that one.

"NO, you didn't let me finish. I am not merely a boy, _I_ am a _man_." He puffed out his chest proudly, as if what he was saying was actually true.

Remus snorted. Sirius glared at him. Peter looked completely and utterly perplexed by the entire situation.

I honestly don't know how these people came to be my friends, but I suppose I'm glad they did.

"What?" Sirius asked accusingly.

"Oh nothing," Remus said in a tone which clearly meant otherwise.

Sirius sniffed, and turned up his nose.

"Fine."

Remus rolled his eyes.

Sirius did have a point.

No I don't think anything of his insane theory!

But Snape _is_ a yobbo. I shuddered at the thought of his greasy hair and unnaturally long nose. I'd perform the killing curse if it meant I could get a pair of scissors and chop it off.

Except the satisfaction factor wouldn't be worth touching his nose, or the time in Azkaban for performing the killing curse.

Remus leaned back in the chair he was sitting in.

"So what took you guys so long, anyway?"

I smiled dreamily, as always when Evans popped into my head (which was rather often). I didn't even need to look to know that Remus was rolling his eyes.

"Let me guess? Lily?"

Sirius nodded for me, then answered when he realised I was completely off the planet.

"He made a deal with her."

Yes, I did.

Remus raised his eyebrows.

"Oh really? And what would that involve?"

"He doesn't ask her out for a month, she doesn't tell on us. If she breaks it then she dates him. If he breaks it… well I guess she tells on us."

Meaning: I've already won a date… with Lily Evans.

"She actually _agreed_ to this deal, or did you guys use your wands?"

"No – she really agreed."

Remus hesitated in thought.

"How does this help his cause? I mean, won't she still hate him?"

Sirius shrugged.

"I have no idea."

He shoved me a little. Ow. That hurt.

I looked to the source of pain. Oh, right. The _real_ world.

"Prongs, how does your deal help your cause?"

I smiled. I'd been thinking about this. I stretched my hands over my head casually and calmly, although I was bursting to tell them my master plan.

Because really that's what it was. I am simply a master at work, and this is my Master Plan.

"Fellow Marauders: I shall have you know that I am the master!" Why do I sound like I've walked out of some creepy sci-fi movie?

Sirius laughed at this.

"Wow Prongs, what a statement."

Great best friends I have… they have no faith in me!

"Well. I have a master plan: I am going to do extreme pranks."

I waited for applause and compliments, but they never came.

I rolled my eyes at their perplexed looks, and decided to elaborate slightly.

"That way, Evans will need to tell on us, because she has that prefect syndrome of hers. And when she does tell, she'll be breaking the deal and then she'll have to date me!"

It was now my turn to puff out my chest proudly. Like I said – _I. Am. The. Master._

"Oh how brilliant. But you forget one thing – Evans will hate you for breaking the rules."

I frowned, slightly crestfallen. Trust Moony to bring reality into this.

"Well it doesn't matter if she hates me – she still has to go out with me! And she won't hate me after we date – who can resist this sexy beast?" I ran my hand through my hair, to emphasise my point.

She won't hate me once she gets to know me! All I need is a chance. And now I'm making excuses for myself… which means I have self doubt. Curses. James Potter does not have self doubt!

"You got the beast part right, but sexy is a lie. Sorry mate," Sirius said before snickering uncontrollably.

I should really get some new friends, shouldn't I? My self-esteem, ego and pride have been somewhat damaged by these fellows.

Remus, however thought about what I'd said for some time.

"You have a point Prongs. At least this way you get a chance to show her that you're really not as much of the prat as she thinks you are."

I beamed. My idea was good! Extraordinary! Mind-blowingly spiffing! My self-esteem, ego and pride have returned from their vacation and are now perfectly operational.

"So… what are you planning to do in terms of pranking?" Moony questioned, always the one for details he is.

I hadn't really thought that far ahead, to be honest. All I could think about was being on a date with Evans… hand in hand… smiling and laughing and snogging… it was a wonderful dream, really.

Sirius clicked his fingers in front of my eyes.

"Oh… I donno yet."

I really haven't thought this through. But then it was all really a spur of the moment thing anyways. Plus, we always come up with great pranks.

"Well, you'd better think of some."

"Yeah, maybe I'll think about it over sleep. I'm tired…"

I stood up and said goodnight to my best friends before trekking up to the sixth year dormitories and collapsing.

I was hit with a sudden dread when I woke up the following morning:

I. WAS. PLANLESS.

Well, I did technically have my Master Plan, but my problem lied in the fact that I had no plans for my Master Plan.

So therefore, I repeat: I. AM. PLANLESS.

Planlessness meant grumpiness, which meant I was irritable all morning.

My mood remained in such a state of frustration, that even whilst in Transfiguration (my top and therefore favourite subject), I was completely sidetracked.

Not to say that normally I wasn't sidetracked, but I was _particularly_ sidetracked today.

So sidetracked, in fact, that I didn't hear McGonagall say my name.

"Potter!"

I snapped back to life before looking sincere and asking "what can I do for you professor?"

Unfortunately, McGonagall was one of the few teachers who didn't fall for my charming manner.

"You can pay attention in my classes and move next to Miss Evans – she's your partner for today's lesson."

Did she just say that?

If dropping my jaw and pulling a superb expression of disbelief wouldn't make me look bad, I would have done it.

I pinched myself, realised it was actually happening, then picked up my books. I looked over to see Evans, who looked utterly thrilled to see me (note: the use of Potter sarcasm).

I sat myself down next to her, and smiled handsomely, ignoring the tiny butterflies in my stomach.

"All right, Evans?"

Nice, Potter. Now play it cool.

"Let's get one thing straight: we are going to work. Got it? I need to work."

Well _hello_ to you too. I inhaled and exhaled deeply. Mentally, of course – really inhaling and exhaling would make me look absolutely mad. Thus, a mental inhale/exhale was required.

I held up my hands in surrender.

"Woah. That's fine. No need to have a fit!"

I sighed and ran my hands through my hair. This girl is a tough cookie.

Once McGonagall had started to blab about what the lesson would involve, I automatically switched off again. Transfiguration had to be the easiest subject in the world.

I stared boredly out the window, right through the middle of the left Quidditch goal post. The scratching of Evans' quill was driving me slightly mad. She is ever so studious.

I felt a kick in the back of my leg and turned to see Sirius indicating to my books. I looked at them, wondering what the hell was wrong with him (a regular pattern of thought when he was concerned) and noticed the tiny piece of parchment. Sirius' scrawl read:

Why so angry? It's Transfiguration, if anything you should be bored out of your brains.

_Padfoot._

Did I really look angry? I used the tip of my wand to erase it, then picked up my quill and under the pretence of writing notes about what McGonagall was talking about, I scribed a response:

**I don't have any pranks. It's Murphy's law: when I need a good prank, I'll never think of one! And yes, I am bored… but I get to sit next to Evans, which is always a plus. Except that I have no pranks and therefore my Master Plan will fail, and I will lose her forever!**

_**Prongs**_

Slightly dramatic, but Sirius is reading it, so it should be fine.

_Yeah, you're a lucky prat, being sat next to Evans. And you _really_ are, because you have me as a friend…_

_Padfoot_

I snorted quietly at this, which I immediately regretted, because I received a kick in the leg and an elbow in the ribs.

The elbower, or rather Evans, raised her eyebrows accusingly.

"You shouldn't be writing notes in class," she hissed.

This sounds an awful lot like the start of one of our many war-of-words. I can't deny that I love these, and I'm sure she does too… deep down.

"You shouldn't be bothered by other people's personal business."

The score is even…

"If you didn't make so much noise, I wouldn't care, but you're being a royal distraction."

And she bounces back. Damn. She's gonna kill me for this one…

"Am I really _that_ good looking?"

I grinned crazily.

She flushed. I winked at her to see if I could get her angrier.

I expected her to come up with a mind blowing insult, but it never came.

She simply closed her eyes, breathed twice, then returned to McGonagall's rambling. How odd. How very odd. Not _once_ has she ever retreated from a battle of words.

Bloody women! They're damn confusing. And I'm good looking… imagine what the physical-appearance-ly (for lack of a _real_ word) challenged blokes have to deal with?

I returned to my Sirius notes. Hah! I so just thought a Sirius-pun. I should remember never, ever to tell him that…

**And why is having you as a friend so great? Prongs**

Because, Prongs my boy, I have a little thing I like to call an idea Padfoot

**This sounds dangerous, and risky … and stupid. You two should be concentrating. Particularly you, Prongs. You're sitting next to the girl you're trying to impress! Moony**

_Shush Moony, I have a BRILLIANT idea … Padfoot_

_**Okay, Padfoot, we get it! So what's this idea of yours? It better not contain nudity and celery sticks (yes I remember that idea of yours).Prongs**_

I was getting anxious and I need to know his plan NOW. I thought I'd throw in the warning to make sure he wouldn't joke.

_Hold on to your wands fellers! – oh dear, don't think about that one too long – _

_**PADFOOT. PLAN. NOW.**_

_You know what? Because you used capitals, I'm think I'm just gonna do it._

Oh no, nononono. He cannot screw up my Master Plan.

_**Don't you dare Padfoot!**_

**Padfoot, you will get in SO much trouble!**

Both Remus and I didn't get a reply, because Sirius had pointed his wand out the window and hexed an unsuspecting first year, who promptly fell off his broom and began to plummet towards the ground.

"PROFESSOR! Look, out the window –" Sirius shouted, jumping to his feet and pointing.

"Mr Black, if you honestly expect me to believe - MERLIN'S BEARD!"

McGonagall shrieked as she looked out the window and saw a mob of angry first year Slytherins and Gryffindors break out into a fight.

It seemed that someone had broken the Gryffindor first year's fall, and that the rest of the Gryffindors believed that the Slytherins had hexed him. Basic hexes and curses were flying all over the pitch.

Sirius is a crazy git. Obviously his plan was to get McGonagall to leave the classroom.

"E-excuse me, it has become apparent that I am required on the Quidditch pitch," McGonagall said before swiftly exiting the room.

I turned around to face Sirius, and ask what the _bloody hell _he was doing, and effectively _hex_ him, but he had already made his way to the front of the room.

My brain was screaming "May Day, May Day!".

The whole class wore expressions of shock and confusion – I don't think they'd quite gotten over the violence amongst the first years yet.

Sirius cleared his throat, rubbed his palms together and beamed at us.

"How y'all doing?" He greeted, extending his arms in a welcoming fashion.

My friend is _completely_ mad. Flying mad. In-sane-ly mad!

"Padfoot, what the hell are you doing?"

"I'd very much like to know that myself," Evans said from beside me.

Sirius rolled his eyes as if it were perfectly clear what he was doing. I could stab him with my wand, but that would break it and probably cause minimum damage to him.

"Well, you see, we are a group of 16 year olds - " Evans snorted at the stupidity of that statement, "- left to our own devices in an empty class room for probably about… half an hour."

"…so?" I asked, not really wanting to know the answer.

"_So, _I just _happen_ to know a spell or two – and I say life's too short so let's PARTY!"

Before anyone could protest (not that anyone really was, in fact many people had cheered at his declaration of disco), Sirius had made the perfect party scene.

The front of the room had been completely rearranged to cater for a dance floor, and a shiny disco ball hung from the roof. The windows had been blacked out using some sort of spell that I didn't know Sirius knew, and I assume he'd put a sound-proofing charm on the room too. The feature of his perfect party scene were two large speakers, which had immediately begun to pump out loud music.

I have no idea how he managed to perform such complex magic so soon, but apparently he could. If only he knew the magic he _needed_ to this well – he'd be the best wizard in the school.

Sirius has many talents. One of them involved his social skills – he was amazing with people. Which explained how the whole class (excluding one Lily Evans and the rest of the Marauders) had taken up his party offer and were now dancing around as if they'd had a whiff of some Gillyweed.

I made my way through the bodies to where Sirius was chatting up a girl I didn't even know went to Hogwarts.

I grabbed his elbow and pulled.

"SIRIUS WHAT THE HELL IS THIS ALL ABOUT?" I yelled above the music.

"WELL, YOU WANTED A PRANK? NOW YOU CAN GO TALK TO EVANS," Sirius shrugged.

I'm not really sure how he thought this was a prank, or how I would be able to talk to Evans without losing my manhood, but I decided that I shouldn't get mad and kill my best friend in such a public place.

Far too many witnesses…

I turned, intending to find Evans and follow through with Sirius' idiotic plan to talk to her (which would most likely end in me experiencing a great deal of pain).

I'm not sure how it exactly happened – all I know was that one second I was on the ground, and the next I was standing on top of McGonagall's desk, next to Sirius who had acquired a microphone.

"Young ladies and blokes of… Transfiguration! Just to liven things up a bit, we have a special act – JAMES POTTER! Please make him welcome."

My. Best. Friend. Is. As. Good. As. Dead.

Everyone was screaming and cheering, which made me wonder how the hell Sirius had gotten them to be such a good crowd. I had absolutely no choice, the microphone was in my hand –

"Er, hi there… I'm James Potter!" I grinned charmingly and gained a little more confidence when people started to clap.

"Yes…well. I hope you're all enjoying the party! Because it's not every day that you get to go crazy in a classroom without anyone caring."

I was suddenly hit with a revelation. My Master Plan would succeed! Because I had an idea. A brilliant idea… all I have to do is get Evans embarrassed, so she'll get pissed of and then tell McGonagall, effectively winning me a date. Simple.

"You know, as great as this party is…there's one thing this party needs to liven it up, and that's some dancers! So, to start off, I nominate …Mr Sirius Black, myself and Miss Lily Evans!"

I gestured to the back of the room, where Lily was standing with her arms crossed her chest.

At the mention of her name, her face wore a shocked expression which quickly turned into the scariest death glare I had ever seen.

That woman was going to be terrible to live with when we were married – I mean, imagine if I didn't do the dishes, or make the bed properly… This calls for serious action. Perhaps a promise to myself?

I, James Potter, hereby pledge to be the perfect husband to Lily Evans in order to avoid glares similar to the one I just received.

There, glad I cleared that up.

By now Sirius had joined me on stage and was doing… odd pelvic thrusts.

"Come on, Miss Evans, we're waiting!" I prompted her, desperately needing someone to save me from Sirius' dancing antics.

By now the studious-sixth-years-turn-outrageous-party-animals had started to appreciate the idea, and were now chanting "Evsy Wevsy". Some people close to her at the back had begun to tug on her arms.

Eventually, they had her on the stage that is McGonagall's desk standing next to Sirius and I.

"I will bloody kill you for this Potter," she gritted.

I simply grinned at her.

"Now let's party!"

The crazy partiers cheered.

I think I'm beginning to realise why Sirius is so crazy all the time… it's fun.

Lily looked like she was about to explode with anger. I ignored this, and joined in the Macarena that Sirius had started.

"Come on Lils! Have some fun!" I said whilst placing my hands on the back of my head.

"I. Am. On. McGonagall's. Desk. I will not do the Macarena," She said through gritted teeth.

"Where's your sense of adventure?"

"Non-existent, and even if it were this isn't really an adventure if you ask me."

"But you're on stage. And people on stages simply do not leave their audiences unsatisfied… come on, dance!"

I grinned pleadingly. If that's possible… I don't know if it is, but that's the general effect I was going for.

Evans looked like she would love to castrate me with the nearby microphone chord at this point in time. She bit her lip and closed her eyes, obviously exercising some restraint.

"Okay – you have to teach me though," she finally said.

I was completely shocked. How can you not know the Macarena? And how come she's not embarrassed out of her mind?

I looked at Sirius. Sirius looked at me.

I mouthed the words 'oh my God she doesn't know the Macarena'.

He nodded. Bloody hell.

I shook my head then mouthed, more precisely, 'she doesn't know the Ma-ca-re-na'.

He made a face of understanding, then mouthed back what looked like the word 'yoghurt'.

Sweet Merlin, we're supposed to be Marauders… and here we are failing at the art of word mouthing. Oh well.

Abandoning hope in Sirius, I looked at Evans, who was patiently (or rather, angrily) waiting for me to teach her the dance.

"Right. Well it's simple really – just watch me and you'll get it."

I demonstrated it for her once, and she got it straight away. My lord this girl is fabulous at picking things up quickly.

After about half an hour of Macarena-ing, I pulled Lily off the stage with me.

"See, that wasn't too bad!" I said rather breathlessly, due to half an hour of dancing the Macarena.

"No, it wasn't…" She smiled.

Actually smiled. Lily Evans smiled at me.

If I died right now, I'd die happy.

We had a party in Transfiguration, Lily Evans _smiled_ at me and she can't tell on us!

I smirked, remembering our deal.

"You know, you can't tell on us…"

She scowled. Uh-oh. Why did I blow it?!

"I know. And I won't – believe me. But Sirius shouldn't have hexed that first year!"

I desperately wanted to draw the focus of the conversation back to the fact that the party was great, but just as I was about to do so Peter began having a fit.

Looking up from a dirty piece of parchment – the Marauder's Map – he shouted at the top of his lungs "McGONAGALL'S COMING!"

Lily, the Marauders and I began wildly charming the room back to its original state. In about fifteen seconds, we were all sitting in our seats, pretending to work.

McGonagall burst into the room, slightly preoccupied. In fact, I think she looked like she'd just had a battle with the Whomping Willow. She reached her desk at the front of the room, paused and turned to face us.

"Well, this is most impressively surprising," she praised us, "how very responsible of you. Fifty points to Gryffindor."

There was a cheer from the back of the room somewhere.

"Imagine what great leaders you will make next year!"

Sirius rocked. The Marauders rocked. I rocked. We had turned an illegal party into free house points – does it get any better?

I looked at Lily from the corner of my eye, and felt warm and fuzzy when I saw that a smile was creeping onto her expression of disapproval.

I felt a swell of pride, for no particular reason.

But that's to be expected – after all, I am simply a Master at work.

I adjusted my glasses on the bridge of my nose and thoroughly enjoyed the rest of my day, which was turning out to be better than I'd thought it would.

_**A/N: And there you have it – Chapter Two. Let me know what you think… Once again, I don't think this chapter was as good as the last – I'm not as good with James' perspective… but I'll work on it.**_

_**Well, that's all from me. Reviews please, lovies.**_


	3. My Therapy

_Disclaimer: It's not mine… I forgot to say this earlier (I think…). But I guess you all figured it._

_A/N: Okay so perhaps updating is not as easy as I anticipated. This is the part where I promise to update… even though I'll end up breaking the promise. Oh well. I'll promise for the hell of it - (insert promise here). I can _definitely_ guarantee that this story has an ending – so I know where I want to go, it's just getting there in a stylish fashion that's the problem. I'm 92 certain you guys don't care about all this stuff I'm rambling on about, so here's the chapter…_

_Oh, by the way – it's from Lily's perspective this time. Enjoy!_

**Chapter Three: My Therapy**** (in which Lily seeks therapy)**

I sighed with content at my oh-so-perfect life and breathed in the fresh aroma of … the common room fireplace? Ugh. That smells disgusting.

Actually, the sigh was more out of distress for my _im_perfect life, and the aromas were hardly fresh. In fact, I could smell someone's dirty socks or something – yucky.

Today was Sunday, which meant the third day of the deal. As usual, my life had not a drop of interest or drama.

My weekend so far has stunk, and not only because of the dirty socks. I have done all my homework (we didn't get that much, for once) and all I could do that was mildly entertaining was read my book which was the epitome of 'boredom'.

So here I sat, on the common room couch, thinking.

I'd tried earlier to think by the Great Lake, but too many couples decided to examine each others' tonsils (and possibly esophageus') in ways I hadn't realised were possible. I'm almost certain that I am scarred for life.

As expected, I sought safety in the common room – which was rather empty because most people were by the Great Lake performing those insanitary deeds.

Everything was fairly okay in the world of me, myself, I, Lily Evans. My only problem was that I really, _really_ needed to stop thinking.

All I could think about was that tiny voice in the back of my head telling me to be guilty…

Truthfully, I was experiencing what was clearly Post-Transfiguration Trauma. I was _itching_ to tell McGonagall.

Except I can't. Because I made a deal with a _bloody_ Marauder. Namely Potter. _WHY _did I make a deal with a Marauder? Because I'm damned _stupid, _that's why!

The worst part is I'm the only one who cares about a secret party. Not even Remus Lupin seems to be affected. I can't help it! It's just so irritating. So imperfect. So… _against the rules._

I feel constricted and caged, like the whole party-business is weighing me down.

I just need to tell McGonagall and get that away.

I could now… I could waltz (obviously not _actually_ waltz, because I'm not quite that crazy) and declare that Sirius Black and James Potter held a party underneath her nose, and how they ought to receive a good kick up the backside for making me do the Macarena on her desk (because they really do – I mean, the shame. The. Shame.).

Maybe I will. After all, anyone in the house could've told, not just me.

But then I'd feel guilty about lying to Potter, for reasons unknown.

_This_ is why I really, really need to stop thinking.

I sighed and stared out the large common room window.

As these thoughts went through my head, Alice Prewett - a studious fellow sixth year – climbed through the portrait hole, looking somewhat flustered and holding a large stack of brightly coloured parchment.

She spotted me immediately, and began speeding towards me as if I were Merlin (the Great) himself. I glanced away, not wanting to appear rude or anything by showing my alarmed expression (it _is_ freaky to be sought after like a great wizard, you know).

"Lily! Oh, I am _so_ glad to see you!" she smiled at me gratefully.

What could possibly be the matter with this child? And how on Earth do I come into the picture?

"Erm, hi Alice! It's great to see you too," I said politely.

She laughed, obviously sensing my confusion. Or so I hoped, because random outbursts of laughter are generally reserved for people with little or no sanity.

Why does Sirius Black come to mind?

Alice placed (or rather dumped) her massive load on the Gryffindor coffee table.

"I know you're not insane or depressed or anything -"

What an interesting way to start a sentence. If only she knew…ever since the day I forgot my wand and got caught in the toilet cubicle of all evil-ness, my sanity has been questionable.

"- but McGonagall's making me give these to all sixth years, so we know what to do before NEWTs next year -" she handed me one of the many pieces of parchment. I realised it was some kind of pamphlet. Alice continued to rattle on.

I turned the pamphlet over to the front and read "_10 Steps to dealing with Emotional Stress_".

Alice was still rambling.

"…and it's silly, really. Could you please help?"

I looked into Alice's pleading eyes and heard myself answer "yes".

She signed with relief and I gulped, noticing just how big the pile really was.

"OH, thankyou so much Lily! Just hand them around." She turned to leave but hesitated after a few steps. I really just wanted her to leave, but she bit her lip and eyed me apologetically.

Oh dear. This is bad. BAD. I have just received the I-am-about-to-completely-ruin-your-day-with-my-next-words look. Heeeeeeeeeeelp! I held my breath.

"I – I forgot to tell you – McGonagall charmed them so that they have to be read once before thrown in the bin. Sorry," she smiled weakly before sprinting out of the common room.

Snap – there it goes. My day is completely ruined.

She's a smart girl for running away, because right now I could kill her. Well perhaps not kill, but significantly wound anyhow.

I allowed myself a moment to recover from the absurdity and … evil-ness (note to self: I love this word!) of the situation.

I sighed, controlling the urge to run after Alice and hex her.

Instead, I looked at the pamphlet pile and grabbed one off the top.

How timely, that I received a million copies of therapy pamphlets immediately after thinking about needing therapy. Or at least thinking about my insanity.

Having nothing better to do, I flipped to first page and scanned it, all the while contemplating my crazy luck.

_Step One: What's your problem?_

Other than my obvious lack of sanity due to James Potter … not much. Although the size of this problem alone compensates for lack of any other problems.

_It is important to identify the issues before any attempt to solve them is made._

Okay, so that's checked off the list. I skim-read the contents page again, and decided to flip to the "how to cope" section. That's all I needed really, a solution… the therapy part.

I turned to the page and was blown away. No, not literally, but almost.

_BOOM._

The pamphlet, being of a magical nature, made a loud rumbling noise and began yelling out the words written on the page. I need not say that this caused me a great deal of shock and distress.

"DEALING WITH STRESS IS DIFFICULT AND PERSONAL. WHILST IT IS EXTEMELY EMBARRASSING, IT IS IMPORTANT TO -"

I slammed the brochure shut violently.

Oh, the irony. Embarrassing! Yeah… they definitely nailed that one.

Goddamn the talking brochure – I was now extremely red and receiving a number of stares from the portraits on the wall (as the Common room was deserted now that Alice had disappeared).

I apologised to them hastily. I hate apologising to portraits. I really do. They're not technically people, so I feel slightly mental when I have to say sorry. It's so strange.

Anyhow. I went to open the pamphlet again when I remembered my embarrassment of the past two minutes. I placed a silencing charm on the darned thing.

"_It is critical that strategies are taken in order to achieve success through therapy. We recommend the following: 1) Sleep for at least eighteen hours-_"

They _have_ to be joking. That only leaves… six hours of the day!

"_2) In situations of great anxiety, count to ten and breathe deeply-"_

These people are really textbook. I knew that _before_ I read this stupid piece of unicorn poo.

"_3) To combat particularly tough issues, get a hobby so you can take your mind off things._"

A hobby, eh? Well, that's all very well – but what could I do? If I had a beard, I would stroke it in contemplation. However, I don't have a beard (that would be creepy) and thus I cannot stroke it.

After five minutes of thinking about potential hobbies (knitting, golf, collecting toy trains, being a wedding singer, baton twirling and the list continues), I had a stroke of genius.

Well, not genius. But a stroke of brilliance? Whatever. I had a stroke.

I COULD PAINT!

I've always wanted to be a painter, just F-Y-I.

Feeling somewhat motivated (perhaps these brochures do work?), I jumped to my feet and ran up to get some things to paint with.

I set up a chair right near the window overlooking the grounds below.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, as I imagined most artists did before starting a masterpiece.

I began to paint. Ooh this is a new sensation!

After five minutes, I was beginning to appreciate the difficulty of the task. The strange shapes on my parchment looked nothing like the reality before me. I sighed and ploughed on, somehow painting now required more effort.

I steadily became more and more frustrated…with everything. This is my hobby! I will _not_ suck at it. Funny, it doesn't seem therapeutic.

The pressure on my paint-quill increased with my level of anger.

Now doesn't that sound like something from my arithmancy textbook? Oh Merlin, I am _such _a nerd.

I need a break from all this painting, plus I need red paint. I walked up the stairs to the girls' dormitories.

Ow. My legs burn… honestly you'd think that they'd get some sort of magical staircases happening whereby we don't have to walk up them. Muggles have escalators. Why can't we have the magical equivalent? Bloody traditional wizards… they don't even believe in telephones, televisions and other modern electrical devices.

Now I am embarrassingly out of breath because wizards are too cool for escalators.

I walked into my room…

Ah, just how I like it. Neat and tidy – Evans style (which means _impeccably_ neat and tidy).

My room's always tidy. Well, no… that's a lie. _Most _of the time it's tidy. My roommates have finally adjusted to my obsessive-compulsive ways! Muahahaha

Gosh, that was odd.

Argh! Now I've forgotten why I'm here….

Oh, that's right – paint.

I grabbed a can of red paint. Then I remembered my searing muscles, and decided to stock up so I didn't have to endure anymore physical pain.

Stacking the cans near the stairway, I did a mental checklist – I _really _didn't want to have to walk up those horrid stairs.

Paint: check.

…erm, yes. That's it. Rightey-o.

I turned around quickly, preparing to walk down the stairs, when I – being so amazingly graceful creature that I am – tripped over the large stack of paint cans and went tumbling down the stairs.

One word: PAIN.

Then add a 't' to that.

I shut my eyes, not daring to consider what I must look like sprawled at the bottom of the staircase covered in red paint. It really couldn't be worse. I think

I've broken something. Ouch. This is really quite the day… if I didn't need therapy before I definitely do now.

I made myself focus on the real world And then I heard it.

The most ridiculous laughter in the world…

It could only be Sirius Black.

"Have a nice _trip _Evans?"

And _that_ could only be James Potter.

Oh hell no. This really cannot be happening.

How much bad luck can one person get?

I had to check, so I opened my eyes. I saw the most annoying smirk in the world.

"Ha-bloody-ha, Potter."

"I guess we caught you red-bodied, hey Evs?" Black laughed his head off at his own lame joke. I fixed him the best glare I could muster, which he didn't notice due to his mad fits of hysterics.

Potter was also laughing. It really wasn't that funny.

"Okay. Fine. Laugh. It's _totally hilarious_ that I'm covered in red paint."

Those bloody idiots.

"We – will -" Sirius gasped between laughs.

With as much dignity as you can have whilst covered in red paint, I stood off and made to march off with what I'd like to call 'Stubborn Flair'. I pride myself on my Stubborn Flair.

Our of nowhere came two hands firmly placed on my shoulders, preventing any forward motion on my part.

Oh sweet Merlin, they are _Potter's _hands. Quick! Get me into quarantine! I am contaminated. I am diseased. I'll never get married now. Which means no love, no kids, no annoying family reunions…no future! All because of the short-sighted, prat-faced wanker in front of me who is currently destroying all sense of cleanliness I have!

Oh. The hands had now left me, and I found myself cleaned of red paint.

So the short-sighted, prat-faced wanker had cleaned me. Well I won't say sorry!

"Easy Evans, I can practically see the steam being emitted from your ears," Black contributed.

I glared at him. I made to move once again, and this time I did escape, over to my painting.

I sat down and began to paint, in the hope that twit-le one and twit-le two would leave.

Unfortunately, I'm Lily Evans, which means I have no – such - luck.

Like two little kids, they peered over my shoulder. I desperately tried to block them out, but then Sirius began having some kind of vocal spasm.

"Yooooohhhhheeeeeee yoooooohhhhheeeeee gaaaannnnuuummm yoooooheeeeee -"

"What are you doing?!" I yelled shrilly. I don't understand their fascination with driving me into insanity.

"I think a better question to ponder, and Sirius – I do believe you'd agree with me – is what are _you_ doing?"

"What does it look like?! I'm PAINTING!"

Potter and Black's mouths made and 'O' shape whilst they tilted their heads to examine my 'painting'.

"Uhm, Evans, is this supposed to be the Great Lake?" Black said, scrunching up his nose.

"No, it's the Astronomy Tower," I answered defensively. Nobody insults my painting!

Black and Potter exchanged a look, forgetting I was RIGHT HERE!

"Evans, this stinks more than Peter. And Pete _smells._"

I glared at Black (for what must have been the billionth time) with so much eye-narrowing perfection, I almost closed my eyes.

"Thanks, Black, I love you too," I said stiffly.

If there's one thing I'm good at it's sarcasm. I congratulated myself in my mind.

Unfortunately, my mind celebration was interrupted.

"Aww! Thanks Evs! C'mere and give me a hug!"

I dodged Black's attempt to hug me by jumping crazily to the side. I felt a sense of deep contentment as I watched him collide with the window, with so much force I thought it would have broken. Alas, all the better for me to see him injure his various body parts.

"OWW! MY LITTLE MISTER BLACK!"

His Little Mister…. What now?!

Black paused from his moaning, still clutching his manhood – apparently named – before he opened his big fat trap again.

"Er, I mean. My BIG Mister Black."

I snorted, because I had absolutely no self-control – that was the most snort-worthy comment I'd ever heard.

This information will so be used as blackmail in the future…

"Serves you right for trying to hug me."

It does – in some countries and cultures hugging is considered to be as offensive as rape. Betcha didn't know that.

"Yeah, Sirius!" James was extremely red – a very unusual shad for him. He looked angry. I looked away.

"Sorry…" Sirius trailed off.

There was a really awkward moment of silence. One of those oh-damn-all-this-stuff-has-just-happened-what-the-bloody-hell-do-we-do-now? silences. They're pretty rare… but I currently was experiencing one.

"What are those?" Potter asked, pointing to the stack of pamphlets on the table.

Oh. Those. I'd forgotten about them. Sodding pieces of … parchment. Okay, fine, so I'm not good with the profanities today. Shuttup.

"Oh. I'm supposed to hand those out to all sixth years. I just got a little sidetracked that's all." My insanity once again was brought to the surface of my mind. And then came my sense of obligation. Blast.

To my surprise, Black and Potter had taken to intensely reading the pamphlets (they reminded me of bookworms… really, I could even visualise it. James was the one with glasses and Sirius was just the lame one who had no glasses).

"Guys, can I have those? I have to start handing them out now."

Bloody boys – always getting in the way.

Black and potter broke out of their deep reading.

Black immediately handed the pamphlet to me (obviously he'd decided that his Little Mister Black had suffered enough today, and that he didn't need an angry Lily Evans on his tail).

Potter, however, grabbed a portion of the pile and smiled stupidly at me. I hate that smile.

"Okay, I'm reading Evans!" he exclaimed like a three year old about to go on the Teddy Bear's Picnic.

I mentally rolled my eyes at him, because my actual face was preoccupied with my confused expression.

"Uh, Potter – what are you talking about?"

"You said you needed help with these. So, I'll help. And help you shall receive."

What a nong.

"I never said I needed help with these."

"Well, you obviously do," he rolled his eyes behind his spectacles.

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do."

"_No, I don't._"

"_Yes you do._"

"Do NOT."

"Do TOO!"

"DO NOT!"

"I owe you."

"DO N- what?"

Damn. He got me there.

"I owe you – I made you do the Macarena on McGonagall's desk, in front of everybody during an illegal class party which we never got caught or punished for." He flashed a winning smile.

Too bad it was anything but a winning smile with me.

"You _really_ don't have to," I gritted.

"No, I insist. Sirius can help too! It'll be fun!"

Sirius perked up at the mention of his name.

"I'll – what?! No way - "

I saw Potter shoot him an extremely significant look, and wondered whether they thought I was retarded or something. YES I CAN see them.

"Oh. _Sure_ James."

"Great. It's settled then. Let's go!"

James dumped a large pile of parchment into my arms, repeated this step for Sirius and headed out the portrait.

If he honestly thinks I'm going to follow him, he's got to be kidding.

It only took him a few seconds to realise we weren't following him. He struck his head through the portrait.

"Guys? You coming?"

Black looked at me.

"Come on, Evans. Let's play follow-the-Pothead."

I had to laugh at this.

"OI! I heard that."

"Good."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing."

"Oh no it doesn't!"

"Yeah, it does."

"I hate you."

"Me too."

"Me three," I added.

We all looked at each other confusedly.

"Did that make any sense at all?" James asked, his eyes flickering between Sirius and I.

"Nah," Sirius shrugged.

"Oh," James said pondering this.

"Let's continue shall we…" I prompted.

We all set out on our quest to distribute obscenely colourful pieces of parchment again. Somehow, being with these two wasn't so bad.

It wasn't exactly therapy… but it wasn't so bad.

_A/N: So there you have it. Chapter Three._

_I hope you liked it, please REVIEW I reeeeeeeeeaaally love reviews. Thankyou so much to those who've previously reviewed – I love you all dearly._

_Again, I apologise for the wait. It's just that school's been a bit occupying lately. Our exams start the day after tomorrow so… accckk. I'll try and update in the middle of Block._

_NEXT CHAPTER: will be from the one and only Sirius Black's perspective, so wait up for that one._

_Well, that's all from me. (REVIEW, now, GO ON!!! Just type something!… lots of love)_

_-- Michelle._


	4. It's Because I'm Black

_A/N: Hello there! Chapter four – hooray. Thanks to all who have reviewed so far, means _a lot _to me. I've been excited about this chapter for some time (Sirius Black – huzzah!), so it's great to actually be writing it! I hope it's not too short. Sorry if it is, I tried my best._

_Okay: Onto the story!_

DISCLAIMER: It's not mine. sob

**Chapter Four: It's Because I'm Black **** (or The Interior Of The Mind Of Sirius Black: ENTER IF YOU DARE!)**

"Boom-ba-cha-boom-boom cha. Boom bachachacha boom - "

"Sirius – shut it. _Now._"

Oh blasted Merlin. I'm not really sure how much of that girl I can handle – but I won't say that, because Prongs - for some wild, crazy, spastic reason - likes her. I will _never_ understand. _Never._

"Why, Lily dear? Don't you like my beat-boxing? It takes a great deal of talent to sound as great as I do."

She doesn't understand – whilst that remark was cocky, it was also true – beat-boxing is _bloody_ hard. I don't even know how those crazy famous muggles do it…maybe it's those weird jumper things they have. You know, with the hoods? Is that… "Gangsta?" Oh well, I'm still getting over the whole "jumper" thing. Why would you name an item of clothing something that has such raunchy connotations? I mean, they might as well call it a "rapist".

"No, I don't like it – and you don't sound _anywhere_ near great."

She cuts me like a knife. Like I said: I don't know how Prongs stands this one. He must be into the whole woman-on-top thing… odd sod he is. Speaking of…he hasn't said much since we started this insane escapade.

"You gut me like a fish, Evs."

Where that came from, I have no idea.

"That has really bad imagery attached to it," she replied, scrunching up her nose.

"Yeah, it does…" James added, also sporting a look of disgust. At least I got him talking…

I shrugged. Not as bad as other imagery, by my reckoning. Take the last issue of _Wicked n Wild! Witchez _for example. Now _that_ is bad imagery...

"Well, if you don't want me to beat-box, what _can _we do? I'm bored. B-O-R-E-D. Bored."

I like spelling words out – it adds effect and… flair! And style and passion! And.. well, you get it. I love making significant imprints on people, therefore, I never fail to give a spectacular performance.

"Nice to know you can spell something, Pads," my best friend so lovingly added.

"Why, thankyou my dear Prongsie," I draped my arm around him.

"Sarcasm. S-A-R-C-A-S-M. _Sarcasm,_" James picked up my arm as if it were infected with a deadly virus, then dropped it – all the while regarding it with eyes of distaste.

I glared at him. I _knew_ that he was being sarcastic. Der.

"I _knew_ that… K-N-E-"

"Would you two _shut up,_" Lily–the-dragon-Evans said (or screeched – I have sensitive ears), whirling around to face us in the corridor.

Both James and I fell silent immediately.

"I'm just trying to make this insanely difficult task you've gotten yourself into fun. What's the problem with that Evans?"

She really doesn't have to be so jumpy and rigid.

"Firstly, unlike yourself, I have responsibilities which have to be fulfilled. Secondly, you volunteered to help me, if I remember correctly. And finally, my 'problem' with that is that it is _bloody_ annoying!" She continued walking briskly down the corridor.

One thing about this girl that kind of annoys me – she's too smart. I mean, you heard that? That whole speech. She even said "Firstly, secondly" and stuff. It's like she rehearsed it.

"Responsibility is overrated; yes I did volunteer – so be grateful; and I am NOT annoying," I defended myself with as much dignity as I could, whilst running with James to catch up to her. God, how fast can that girl walk?

In response, Evans huffed.

The three of us rounded a corner (seriously – we almost murdered a couple of firsties).

I wasn't entirely sure of what we were doing anyways – we'd been walking for ages.

"Ahem." I cleared my throat.

James looked at me, and I shook my head. He shrugged.

I love that we can have silent conversations… he completely understood that I didn't mean him just then.

"_Ahem._"

No response. Is the girl deaf? Seriously.

"A-HEM!"

Still zippo.

This calls for drastic actions.

"AHEM, AHEM, AHEM, AHEM, AHEM, AHEM, AHEM, AHEM, A -" (is it just me, or did that sound like the tune of "God Save the Queen"?)

"Shut up, Black, or I will stick my wand so far up your nose, it will be forever stuck in the moosh you were given to suffice for a brain!"

MAYDAY!

I held up my hands defensively, as Evans had drawn her wand. She's a bipolar maniac! I am too young to die!

"I just wanted to ask a question," I squeaked, sounding a lot like Peter (oh the shame). I swear I heard James snigger from somewhere, but I didn't dare to look away from Evans' murderous glare. In situations such as these, you must not make any sudden movements that may result in your death at the hands of a psychotic psycho.

"What?!" Lily screeched, shoving her wand into the bottom of my chin.

"Where exactly are we going with these pamphlet thingys?" I asked timidly, flashing a cute grin in the hope of winning some life points.

Lily scowled a scowl she normally reserved fro Prongs.

"I already told you," she gritted icily.

"No you didn't."

"Yes I did."

"_No, _you didn't."

"_Yes, _I _did._"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Did NOT!"

"Did – Argh! I give up!"

I suppressed the major urge to hiss "yessss" as Lily threw her free arm up in the air and – thank Merlin – dropped her wand arm.

Unsure of what was going to happen next, I looked at James, who shrugged. I pointed at him. He shook his head. I pointed at him more forcefully. He rolled his eyes and sighed heavily.

"Listen, Evans, it's getting late – why don't we just go back to the common room, where we can sort out what to do tomorrow, okay?" James said calmly to Lily (I desperately wanted to laugh at the sincerity of his tone, but decided that would be unwise).

"Uh … oh, fine!" Lily said, slumping a little.

Poor girl. She really needs some help.

James put a hand on her shoulder.

"Hey – it's okay."

That's my boy. I did the thumbs up to him from behind Lily's back, nodding vigorously.

"Sirius and I would be happy to carry all the pamphlets for you -"

WHAT?! I started shaking my head and mouthing "no! Abort! Abort!" to him, but he seemed to be obliviously. Bloody prat of a best friend.

"Thanks James," Lily said exhaustedly.

And so the three of us began our journey back to the Gryffindor common room.

In my sulking mood, I trailed behind Lily and Prongs. They proceeded to converse about something – and I promptly zoned out, allowing them some "alone time".

After a while, I scooted up to be in line with them.

"So…. Whaddya talking about?"

"Nothing," Lily answered.

At the same time, James spoke.

"Lily was just saying how she wished the deal was over, because she misses me asking her out."

James winked at me. I laughed.

"Oh really?" I sounded out the second word, for maximum effect.

"Potter, if I wanted to cringe, I'd picture Dumbledore in a tutu," Lily said.

There was a pause, in which I think everyone threw up a little in their mouths.

"Sorry," Lily managed to get out.

"No problem," Prongs said stiffly.

Prongs and I shared a look, which clearly led me to understand that I wasn't the only one who was going to be having disturbing mental images.

We didn't have to worry about the now-awkward-atmosphere, as we arrived at the Portrait Hole.

"Ladies first," I gestured to Lily.

"Okay…" she said eyeing Prongs and I suspiciously.

Nonetheless, she entered the Portrait Hold.

Prongs went to follow, but I pulled him back.

"What?" he asked impatiently. I think that what he really cared about was missing the opportunity to inspect Miss Evans' arse. Wanker.

"Prongs – I have a plan to help you with your Master Plan!"

"Really?! What?" James seemed to forget about Miss Evans' arse (for the time being).

"See these pamphlets?"

"Yes – I may have glasses, but I am _not_ blind, Sirius," James rolled his eyes.

"Shut up. Well, I think they need some alterations," I smiled triumphantly.

James remained blank-faced.

"Such as…" he prompted.

"Such as the title. It should be 'Sexual Therapy: Some tips from the Sex God!'" I said staring off slightly, envisioning the font.

For a moment longer James remained silent, and I was about to really get ticked off with the tortoise pace at which his brain seemed to be functioning at when –

"Padfoot, you brilliant man!"

He slapped me on the back.

I hid my wince at the pain it caused, and followed him into the common room.


	5. The Eaves I Dropped

A/N: Hey to all! Firstly – hooray for Deathly Hallows. Secondly – I have nothing else to say, except: This chapter is back to Lily, and it is DAY SIX OF THE DARE – sorry about the capitals, I just had to have that stand out for those who don't actually read my Author's notes. Oh, and – to those who reviewed (how I love you) telling me so - I'm glad you liked my Sirius perspective. Since there was such a great response, you can look forward to one in the future (probably about chapter eight… if all goes as planned).

_Disclaimer: Does anyone know if I need one of these each chapter? Do I actually need one at all? – I'm unsure. Anywho: _I don't own it_ – may the Lord darn it – and uhh… if I did, I would be über happy, because that would mean I'd have enough money to buy a bass guitar, and a bass guitar would definitely make me happy. Alas, I find myself sad - because I don't own it, and therefore don't have money, and therefore don't have a bass guitar. Life sucks, right? I hereby end my ramblings…_

_Enjoy._

**Chapter Five: The Eaves I Dropped** **(or: Lily Evans Decides To Play It Tough)**

Like any normal person – and yes, I _am_ normal – I love waking up perfectly.

You know, when you just seem to ease out of sleep? It's wonderful really. When you wake up perfectly, you just know your day is going to be perfect.

So I was most pleased when, at around six-thirty in the morning on Wednesday (six days into the Deal, which I felt had been going rather nicely, for the past couple of days), I woke up perfectly.

For perhaps two seconds I kept my eyes closed, relishing the Perfect Awakening.

Tingling in my toes, stretching my back and sighing deeply – the ingredients of the beginning of a perfect day.

Feeling somewhat motivated to commence my Perfect Day, I sat up with momentum and –

AGH! HOLY BLASTED MERLIN!

I glared at the offending piece of timber, that had probably just caused me to lose a few brain cells, whilst clutching my throbbing head in pain.

Okay. So perhaps today wasn't going to be so perfect.

I inwardly groaned, and decided to stay in bed for a while – or at least until I felt capable enough of facing the day.

I laid my head back down on my pillow and exhaled through my nose.

I really love doing that – makes me feeling like I'm clearing my head of unnecessary thought.

I repeated my nose exhale.

Eugh – yuck! That was disgusting. I think I need a tissue.

Carefully covering my nose, I sat up carefully – avoiding the evil piece of wood. I made my way over to the bathrooms and was about to push the door open when I heard a snippet of conversation that stopped me dead in my tracks.

"Oh. My. God! Have you _seen _James Potter and Sirius Black handing out those pamphlets?"

I rolled my eyes – girls at Hogwarts were so…girly.

The second girl gasped.

"You're joking!?"

"No! Apparently Lily Evans told them to hand them out."

"Lily Evans? Giving out those kinds of pamphlets?" Gossip Girl Two giggled. I released my breath, which I had been holding without realising. I have my hesitations about trusting James and Sirius, but they are obviously doing what I asked.

"I know! And she _hates_ James and Sirius!"

"Oh, I don't know about that! She like, totally likes James – it's so obvious… seriously…" Ew. Just… ew. I don't like James. He is nice, just not my type.

"OhmygodNoway! But I can totally see why. Even I admit I like him. It's like… rite of passage. You just have to like him."

"Totally, except I think I like Sirius more. He's so funny! And absolutely gorgeous."

"Are you serious? James is like, way hotter!"

"Uh-uh it's Sirius, all the way!"

"I don't know…James is pretty hot…"

"Yeah but Sirius is hotter!"

"James!"

"Sirius!"

"James!"

"Sirius! You obviously don't have good taste."

"Woah, no need to get bitchy! Here – let's settle this. Sirius is sexy. James is hot. Deal?"

"Yeah! Yeah. So true – Sirius is absolutely sexy, and James is defs hot."

"Have you finished your make-up?"

"Hold on… just one more stroke of mascara on the left upper lashes I think…", There was a pause, through which I assumed she carried out the action, "… okay. Done. Let's go!"

I raced back to my bed, pretending to be just getting up, hand still covering my nose. The two girls exited the bathroom. They looked me, looked at each other, giggled, then walked away.

They could at least pretend they weren't just talking about me… how tactless of them.

My nose began to drip, and I was reminded of my tissue-issue.

I entered the bathroom: no tissues. Oh well, I suppose toilet paper would work.

I looked at the toilet roll holder thing which probably has a technical name I don't know: no toilet paper.

Brilliant. Fantastic. Su-per.

I was getting slightly angrier every second of this day.

People think I like James, which I don't, I think I have brain damage, I need a tissue and then there. Are. No. tissues.

I could scream.

Annoyed with my perfect day being thrown out the window, landing in the Whomping Willow, being thrown about a little, tossed into the great lake and promptly swallowed by the Giant Squid, I walked briskly in my heightened search for tissues.

After ransacking the dormitory, I realised I had a wand (why is it always _after _all of the physical exertion?).

I rushed over and pulled it out from under my pillow – ready to spell my nose better.

Just as I opened my mouth to say an incantation, I realised I had no idea was to what spell I could use. Accio would probably get me loads of _used_ tissues…

Argh! Bloody magic!

I had no choice. I had to leave the dormitory.

This was extremely humiliating. As stealthily as I could, I opened the door leading onto the staircase.

I took two tentative steps forwards, and then I saw it.

It was a large colourful poster, on the wall directly opposite the door to our dormitory.

In fat, large, obese, humongous letters across the top of the poster were the words "SEX TIPS: ADVICE FROM THE SEX GOD!". Below, in less offending, yet still quite bold letters was, "Come see James Potter and Sirius Black to get your copy of this sensational new pamphlet! Improving your love is only two sickles away! (or five sickles for three). Selling in the Gryffindor Common room like pumpkin pasties – don't miss out!"

My blood was almost literally boiling.

Those rotten, cheating, disgusting, annoyingly smart, profit-making balls of prat-like git!

I turned on my heel, grabbed a clean, old sock and wiped my nose on it – I had things to do.

Things like torture, assault occasioning grievous bodily harm and perhaps even killing.

I quickly changed clothes: pyjamas were probably not the best murder clothes (especially since mine had the cutest little bunny rabbits on them. Yes – bunny rabbits…).

I swung open the dorm door again.

A group of fourth year girls were walking down the steps.

"Hey Lily! Did you know that James Potter and Sirius Blaaaaa - " I threw her the most evil look I could muster, "- ack. Sorrygottarun, bye!"

She scurried away, scared to the bone.

In a dazed kind of state, I walked slowly down to the common room – which was rather packed, thanks to James and Sirius's new business.

This whole business was rather strange. Sex tips? Really, I didn't think Hogwarts was that dirty. Judging by the millions of people holding pamphlets, discussing with their favourite candle arrangement with their friends… apparently Hogwarts _was_ that dirty.

"That'll be two sickles, thanks!" Sirius said cheerfully, grinning at a seemingly satisfied customer.

Next to Sirius, stood the person I was looking for.

I marched with murderous intent towards the messy haired boy; the steam coming out of my ears practically visible.

He looked so peaceful, without any knowledge he was going to be absolutely slaughtered.

As I steadily drew closer, my prey looked up and caught my eye.

Fear rippled across his face – I was glad too see.

I finally reached the table upon which stacks and stacks of the altered pamphlets rested.

Part of me was slightly impressed – it was rather advanced magic. The other part of me was screaming "Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill!" in my head, like some crazy maniac.

James cleared his throat, and my eyes snapped to him.

"Er, hi there E-evans!" he said, smiling nervously whilst feigning happiness. Not a good combo.

"What. The hell. Is. This?" I asked icily.

"What does it look like, Lils? It's a pamphlet stand," Sirius said bravely, even daring to roll his eyes as if it were the most obvious thing on the planet. If only he could hear the "kill! Kill!" voices. That'd deflate his asteroid-sized head.

I sent Black the most menacing look I could spare.

"Hmm. Uh, James? I gotta go… and do that thing at that place that I was telling you about? Yeah. Okay. BYE!" Black disappeared – a talent of his that I am extremely jealous of - into the crowd.

Part of me felt sorry for James…but that part of me was only miniscule, and the rest of my wanted to murder him – so I didn't let guilt rule my mind.

"I have just one question for you," I said, circling round the table slowly. James made a sound half between a squeal and a cough.

"WHY the BLOODY HELL do these pamphlets even MENTION the word SEX?!"

I was shocked at myself – my resemblance to Professor McGonagall was uncanny… except for the "bloody hell" part… and the glasses. And the robes. And her accent. Not to mention the age difference… argh! I was getting distracted.

James had somehow managed to edge his way around the table, so that it now stood firmly in between us. If tables can stand, that is.

"Well?" I asked impatiently.

"Well…personally, I think this school needs a little bit of advice in this particular area. Turn to page forty-seven, for example: that page has top notch advice on how to -"

"- ah yes! I can see from the _detailed pictures_ just what exactly it's advising!" I cut him off quickly – there were first years around!

James chuckled. He _actually_ chuckled, when I was about to beat his head off of his shoulders.

"Why are you laughing?!" I asked shrilly.

"This is all terribly amusing."

That sodding, arrogant, idiotic, pig headed, I-don't-know-when-I-should-keep-my-mouth-shut (for-example-times-like-these-when-Evans-may-just-bloody-kill-me), _utterly stupid_ nong-head. He has some _nerve_ finding this "terribly amusing", let alone expressing it through his retarded wannabe-masculine chuckles. He thinks he can get away with a move like that. Well, _News Flash:_ wrong move buddy.

Ignoring the sensible, rational, prefect part of my brain, I dove across the table with strength I honestly didn't know I had in me.

As I would have anticipated, had I thought for a split second, this resulted in great pain in my knees and my back. Somehow in the process, I had knocked over the table (and of course, the common room had begun raining pamphlets) which was now rudely crushing my spine.

I felt something squishy beneath my hand, and was comforted by the fact that I had managed to tackle James to the floor. Realising my vantage point, I promptly grabbed a stack of pamphlets and began my siege on his head.

"Evans! Ow – stop! There is a brain in there you know!"

"Yes, and even – if – it is – microscopic – I will – whack – it!" I gritted between my blows.

Someone – Merlin bless them – removed the table from my back.

Someone – Merlin curse them – pulled me by the shoulders off of James, who I was still attempting to attack.

"Miss Evans! Why are you attacking Mr Pot- WHY do these pamphlets even MENTION the word SEX?!" Maybe I did sound like her, I contemplated.

Professor McGonagall stood glaring at James and I.

"Well," I began in my most proper prefect voice, "James here thought it would be awfully _amusing_ to alter the pamphlets."

"Yes. That does sound like one of Mr Potter's many tricks," McGonagall said with only a hint of laughter in her eyes. She snapped back to scary-teacher, "But that is extremely immature…"

I relaxed a little. I wasn't going to get the blame! Yesssss! I did a mental happy dance.

"… of _both _of you," McGonagall looked at me pointedly.

The happy dance promptly ended.

"I expect much better from two sixth-years like yourselves. You're… sixth years after all. Therefore, twenty points from Gryffindor. Each."

She swept out of the room, leaving me with my jaw on the ground.

I turned around to glare at James, but he had vanished. Sirius must have taught him that trick. Darn it!

I sighed, and helped a couple of other prefects clean up the common room.

As I was walking up the Girls' dormitories (I was feeling the need to take a shower) I heard a snippet of conversation.

"…yeah, apparently there's this big deal between the two of them!"

"Really? Wow."

"Yeah, I know. And look at that massive fight they just had – they totally hate each other."

"I reckon."

"D'you know what I heard? Apparently James is pranking Lily loads. Because he wants her to tell on him, so he can win the deal and go out with her."

"Woah… are you serious?!"

"Absolutely. That's why he changed her pamphlets."

I held the handle to my dormitory extremely tight in my hands. That fucking bastard.

I opened the door violently and went into the bathroom. Thankfully no one was there. I slammed the door shut anyway, and thought about the conversation I'd just heard.

Of course James would be playing dirty – it was a deal after all. Plus, he was a Marauder, how could I have not expected this?

Frustrated with myself, I turned on the tap and splashed water on my face.

As I brought my head up to face the mirror, a sudden though hit me.

If I was going to win this deal – which was my only option – I had to play dirty, which meant…

I smirked at my reflection. This was going to be incredibly fun and evil and conniving and … thoroughly enjoyable.

"Well, Mr Potter," I said into the silence, "two can play that game."

Author's Note: There we go chapter five. A little cliff-hangerish, and mainly filler, but the next chapter will be fun. Hope you enjoyed that one! Just over a month since my last chapter – not too bad, I hope.

100 Love,  
Michelle


	6. The Thinking Kind

_A/N: Right. So basically here's how it goes: Michelle writes chapter 5, which she is rather proud of. Yays for Michelle! Michelle posts chapter, and all is well in Shell-land. Reviewers (I LOVE YOU!) review the chapter, and happen to notice a … what shall we call it.. flaw within the plot, and notify Michelle of her horrid mistake. Michelle freaks out (approximate thoughts: "Fck! What am I gonna do?! I've ruined my story, the end is near!"). Michelle inserts _this _chapter to rectify the situation. Point of the story: I hope that this is believable enough to fit into the story. _

_Disclaimer: Isn't mine, yeah? Yeah. If you can accept it, I can too._

**Chapter Six:**** The Thinking Kind**

I'm constantly teased by James and Sirius, and occasionally Peter, about my studious nature (though I believe the term they used to describe this was "nerd").

Anyhow, they only tease because they don't understand the beauty of books, or mathematics, or study or – well, you know. All of that _stuff_.

For instance, I am currently sitting in Arithmancy class, and it is pure, quiet, bliss. I get to relax, in the comfort of my natural habitat.

James and Sirius just wouldn't understand.

In fact, I'm fairly certain the only thing that would encourage either of them to do Arithmancy would be the girls, because – in their words - "intelligence is sexy, except on you, because that would be weird" (Yes, Sirius is an odd fellow).

I digress.

Arithmancy is a subject of glory, where, for an hour or two, I get to experience a wonderous bliss.

I look up for a split second, directly facing the blackboard, which has the problems we are doing scribbled across it.

And then time slows down, in one of those moments that just go on and on and on.

The moment passed, and I realised something big. Something bad. Something James would really like to know. Something Sirius would probably call an "epiphany" and promptly start laughing because it sounded like the word "elephant", and the "scientist-dudes" should have called baby elephants "epiphanies".

I turned to the red-head beside me, a look of awe most probably plastered to my face.

She glanced at me briefly.

Then did a double-take.

"Remus? Are you okay?"

I suppose it would be noticeable that I stopped doing my work. I never stop doing my work, especially in this class.

"Remus?"

I snapped out of my haze.

"Um. Yep. Fine."

Lily shrugged, and continued her work.

Meanwhile, I had a warfare of morals in my head. Should I tell the best friend? Or the best friend's lover? Which is the right choice? Is James _actually _capable of murdering people (and would he murder me if I told)?

You see, the only problem about being more intelligent than the average person is that you notice things they don't.

And sometimes these things aren't just your small little tiny problems.

Sometimes they're huge, extremely problematic issues, demanding questions which cannot possibly be answered, and which therefore place you in an awfully uncomfortable position.

Perhaps I should exercise my right to remain silent. But then there's no guarantee that one of them won't notice…

I looked at Lily. She did not need any major permutations, such as being forced to date James Potter, in her life.

I thought about my friend. He loved her more than anything else.

Why do decisions have to be hard? That's the other thing about being a thinking person. The thought process is vigorous, and time consuming and all in all horrible, because essentially all possible outcomes are investigated. This is bad.

"Remus? You haven't written anything in five minutes… what is wrong with you?"

Oh no. She's onto me.

"Oh you know, not much… just thinking."

Great answer. Really. She won't ask any questions to follow through at _all._

"You're really the thinking kind aren't you? What you thinking about then?"

I looked away.

Don't tell the truth, don't tell the truth, don't tell the tru - 

"Just uhh… what happened the other day in the common room."

I suppose honesty is the best policy.

"Oh," she frowned.

OhMerlinohMerlinohMerlin ….

"Yeah, and I was just thinking about the whole deal in general…"

"Uh huh," she said skeptically.

"I _was,_" I defended myself.

"Oh I'll believe that the day I see Merlin's wand! Seriously Remus, just spit it out."

I sighed deeply. Here goes nothing.

"YouaccidentallybrokethedealwhenyoutoldProfessorMcGonagallJamesalteredthepamphlets." I averted her eyes.

I heard a large intake of air, and looked to make sure my best friend's One True Lover hadn't just, well… snuffed it.

Nope, she was alive and kicking… literally. Lily Evans was kicking herself, much like a house elf punishing itself.

"Lily! Lily, stop!"

She did. Wow, maybe she _is_ a house elf.

I cringed mentally – that was such a Sirius thought. I must stop hanging around that twit.

"Now look at me: there's only one thing you can do."

Lily nodded.

"Tell James."

"WHAT?!" the entire class (full of mainly those with glasses and large piles of large textbooks) looked at her. She flushed with embarrassment, then continued in softer (but still intense) tones, "What the hell would I do that for?"

"Well, if you tell him, you can go prepared with a little speech or something and convince him that it doesn't count -"

"No, that wouldn't work."

"Yes it would! You're a smart girl Lily, you could tell him anything, and if you said it the right way he'd believe you."

I think I just insulted my friend's intelligence.

"No, Remus I think that's a silly idea."

"Okay, well fine. Just hope he doesn't find out about it…"

"You won't tell him will you?" She asked pleadingly.

"No, of course not."

And with that we continued on with our problems.

The Arithmancy problems, that is.

(Not the thinking ones.)

I have a guilty conscience, because I told Lily, which is probably why I'm reading this ridiculous book. I'm in denial.

Except I'm not denying I'm in denial, so does that mean I'm actually not in denial?

The word denial is rather annoying. It reminds me of the lame joke Sirius tells. "Da-Nile, not just a river in Egypt!" I'm fairly certain he couldn't pick out Egypt on a map to save his life, so goodness knows how he found out about the Nile.

Anyway, my excuse – other than distracting my brain from thinking about the whole James and Lily situation – is that it is a perfect night for reading in the common room.

Allow me to set the scene: It's about nine o'clock at night, I've completed all my homework to the standard of which I am satisfied. Most people have gone up to their dorms to either sleep, or begin their homework, so there's just the right amount of people (that is, not very many. In fact, I am one of three people in the room). The fire is just right – it's not a vigorous as it was in the earlier hours of the night, but it hasn't yet started to die down, so it provides the ideal amount of heat. Also, the chairs must have been cleaned by the elves or something of that nature, because they are extra comfortable and smell nicer than they did yesterday.

All in all, the mood is rather peaceful.

I'm rather comfortable now, and getting into this book.

But it is always, of course, just when you begin to really grasp the reading pace that it is interrupted.

"YOU BLOODY WANKER!" came the sound of an ear-splittingly shrill voice.

I'm fairly certain that if you calculated the frequency of Lily's voice just then it would have been extremely high.

"I'm not a bloody wanker!"

That could only be the sound of Lily and James fighting. My eyes widened, and the guilt returned immediately. I hid a little under my book.

"DON'T TALK TO ME YOU BLOODY WANKER!"

"I'm _not_ a wanker, it's the deal Lils – that's the agreement we made. You can't just go back on it, now that you lost."

"It just _does not _count. Does. Not!"

Sure enough, Lily and James entered the common room: Lily looked extremely agitated, and James looked similar to a little boy on Christmas Day.

"Oh come on, Lily. You can't just change the rules! I won, now own up to it. There's _nothing_ you can do."

He stood triumphantly, folding his arms – presuming he had just won the battle.

I'm not really an expert in relationships, but I do know that I would never say that to Lily Evans, let alone presume to win the battle without physical violence ensuing.

It was at this moment, I estimate, when Lily decided that tackling James was probably her only way of getting anywhere.

In one swift move, which I'm sure she must have rehearsed, she had her wand pointing into his neck, and was sitting on him, restraining any movement on his part.

"There is something I can do, thank you very much, and that something would be extremely painful for you. I'll give you a hint, it involves your castration. I'm very good at charms, Potter, and don't you forget it. Now, we're going to do this _my _way," Lily's voice was extremely calm, yet ice cold at the same time.

There have been many times throughout our friendship when I have wished I had been in James' place. For instance: the many times he won the Quidditch House Cup for Gryffindor, or the time where he so suavely asked out the girl he liked. However, right now, I was extremely glad to be safely in my own body, with the security of a book in my hand, and without an extremely angry powerful witch threatening to cut of parts of my body I'd rather keep.

James nodded, and I understood – Lily could be extremely intimidating.

"Sorry, I kind of need to hear it out loud."

"O -" James choked a little, "kay!"

"Great. So are we alright? The deal is as always was. No starting again, no changes. You know McGonagall would have known anyway, so I think this is fair."

"Yep," he gasped.

"Great," Lily said cheerfully, promptly getting off James and walking briskly to the staircase leading to the Girls' Dormitories. "I'm glad we had this talk."

She disappeared.

James stood up and dusted himself off, then spotted me.

"Hey Remus," he said exhaustedly.

I chuckled.

"What?"

I began laughing.

"WHAT?" He asked, without a clue.

"You're such a wimp."

James scowled.

"Well at least I don't read books."

We both struggled to keep a straight face, before finally bursting into laughter.

"It wasn't _that_ bad," James said.

I snorted. Who was _he _kidding?

"What do you mean? She was going to castrate you."

"Well – I had Lily on top of me didn't I?"

I threw a pillow at his head, hard.

"You're a wanker."

"At least I'm not a thinker."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"No, it doesn't. That's not the point."

"Since when is there a point to what you say?"

This time a pillow came flying towards me and hit the side of my head.

We sat in silence for a few moments.

"I should just ease off the pranks for a while, shouldn't I?" James asked seriously.

"I'm not really good with love and such James, but yes – I think you should."

James sighed deeply.

"You know what?" he asked.

I rolled my eyes. Such a set up question.

"What?"

"I'm kind of glad the deal is still on."

Didn't see that one coming.

"_Really?_"

"Yeah. I mean, we talk so much more than we used to, and it's loads of fun."

"Well I suppose that's nice for you."

"It is," he yawned. "I think I might just go to bed, all these threats of losing my manhood have made me surprisingly tired."

"Night then, James."

"Night Remmy!"

He left me in peace to read my book, but no matter how hard I tried to read the pages in front of me, I couldn't.

I was thinking too much about the events of the day.

Such is the frustration of being the thinking kind.

A/N: Okay, so kind of lame. But the next chapter will definitely make up for it. I promise. Do you remember Lily's little plan to get back at James? Well – it's on next chapter, unless I've made another impossible plot flaw again. (I haven't have I?!)

_100 Love,  
Michelle_


	7. Dangerous Flirtations

A/N: This, is probably my favourite chapter to write so far. Hope it's your favourite to read! This would be DAY TWELVE of the deal, folks (just putting it out there).

_Disclaimer: Don't own it…dayum._

**Chapter Seven: Dangerous Flirtations**

Showers are fantastic. (And that sounded a great deal more unsavoury than I would have liked it too, but I swear, it's not as seedy as it sounds.)

They give you a chance to be alone, sing or contemplate your life. (And that sounded a lot pansy…er than I would have liked it too.)

Which is what I have been doing this shower. (Does that make me a pansy? Absolutely not.) Minus the singing.

It's been a rather quiet couple of days in the life of James Potter. That is to say: I have been bored brainless.

I turned off the tap and grabbed my towel.

Yuck.

Looks like Sirius used it _again_. I grabbed a fresh one instead. The boy was gross, you could never know what had been near him.

Back to the real world and, more specifically, my Evans drama (because there is _always_ Evans drama).

I didn't think that laying off from pranking would be so _bloody_ difficult. It's like I'm having withdrawals only with less…twitching. Although… now that I thought about it, I had been doing that a little more often than usual lately.

I dried off my hair, and stared at my reflection in the mirror. It _looked_ like I was having withdrawals or something.

Since my confession to Moony about my secret need to keep this deal going… well, I hadn't slept very well. In fact, some nights I hadn't exactly slept. Naturally, this didn't do so nicely on the features.

Yep, this Potter did not grade so nicely in the appearance department at the moment.

My eyes had dark circles surrounding them, and were slightly puffy. My voice cracked every now and then, and I felt all in all disgusting. No amount of showering could rid me of that feeling.

So today was going to be one of those hazy, can't-wait-to-be-over-so-I-can-sleep kind of days. Concentration would probably not occur. At all.

I wrapped the clean (not diseased by some disgusting friend – SIRIUS – of mine) towel around me, and stepped out of the bathroom –

Only to be tackled to the ground by a shaggy, dirty, and apparently enormous dog, who promptly began licking my face – and most likely giving me some kind of herpes in the process.

Sirius.

One day he'll die, and I'm willing to bet it won't be of natural causes (he's wanted dead by too many people and he's only sixteen).

I shoved the dog off me and it assumed the shape of my best friend who was, as it were, dressed only in his underpants.

"MORNIIING PRONGS!" he smiled cheerfully. Clearly he was oblivious to his attire. As any good friend would, I decided not to enlighten him on the situation.

This wasn't really the Sirius I knew – the constantly hung over spastic – nope, this wasn't him. This one was only spastic and on a day like today it was _not_ good.

"Isn't it wonderful to be alive and kicking?! Let's sing a song about that!"

I repeat: not. Good.

"Are you high?"

"High on life, my boy!" Sirius's voice sounded amazingly like Professor Slughorn's, I had to take a moment to blink in surprise.

Blink, blink.

Okay that's enough of that. Now for the feeling of amazing discomfort at the idioticracyness of the best friend.

I don't know what was more disturbing – the fact that my friend wanted to sing so early in the morning, or the fact that he hadn't yet noticed his current state of almost-nudity.

He took a deep breath in, and I clamped my eyes shut, bracing myself from the vocal horror that was about to unfold…

"NOOOOOO!"

I opened my eyes, just in time to see Peter running faster than I though was possible for him.

To my horror (the visuals were not really what one would prefer to see so early in the day), he jumped on Sirius, and not to be mean, prevented any sound from escaping his mouth.

I saluted Peter, and received a humble nod in return.

I left the bathroom: firstly, it was only a matter of time before Sirius escaped from under Peter and chaos ensued; secondly, it was only a matter of time before Sirius realised he was only in his underwear and thirdly, I had higher priorities. Such as dressing myself, and regaining both a sense of innocence and sanity.

Or perhaps just my innocence.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"So we were just up near the Astronomy Tower – not actually there, of course, because it was around eleven thirty at night, and that's peak hour – yeah anyways. We were snogging, you know, as you do, and it was pretty good. Some tongue action - "

"Padfoot, do we really -"

"- and some slight groping -"

"Now, really – there are first years!"

"- and _then_ this massive bit of saliva gets passed from her mouth to mine -"

"Oh Merlin…"

"_Honestly!_ It was as if she _spat_ into my mouth -"

"He's such a charming fellow," I said to Remus.

"- and I think I might've tasted a bit of phlegm there too -"

"Yuck." "Ew." "You bloody wanker."

"And then she pulled away, and I opened my eyes and thought," he paused for a moment, staring into the distance, "'I will never snog a Slytherin ever again'."

Remus smacked his forehead with his hand in frustration at the blatant shallowness of Padfoot. I felt the same way.

Peter was looking extremely red, as if his mind had been violated.

"My mind has been violated." What can I say? My aunt has a history of telepathy.

I was a little grossed out still.

Sirius leaned against the wall of the corridor, casually crossing his legs. What a poser. "So…. What'd you lot get up to last night?"

"Not quite as much as you," I informed him.

"Yes, well, if you weren't so in love with a certain red-headed gal, that wouldn't be the case. Prongs you've got …" he trailed off as a 'certain red-headed gal' approached them.

Dayum. She even walked amazingly.

I watched her as she walked down the corridor, getting closer and closer.

When she was about three metres away, she looked up straight at me and smiled.

Actually. Smiled.

I felt dizzy. And high. And…woah.

"Hi James!" an unknown cheery voice declared.

Well, the voice wasn't exactly unknown. In fact, I knew _exactly_ who it was – it was just _this _voice wasn't known to be cheery and hence an "unknown cheery voice" (yes, I confuse even myself sometimes). Which is what made it so darned surprising – I looked up to clarify.

This could not be. I mean … weren't we fighting? I hate women. No, wait, I love women. They're just so … confusing.

Sirius pulled my glasses off my shocked face, cleaned them for me, and placed them back on my face.

Yep, that was Lily Evans who had spoken.

I looked at Sirius, wearing my classic "what the blasted frog legs?!" look.

He replied with the classic "I don't know, but jeesh – I hope you _never_ say 'blasted frog legs' again" look.

Lily was tapping her foot impatiently when I realised I'd better say something, otherwise my silence could be perceived as blatant rudeness.

"You're – uh – I'm – Hi!" About that Potter charm I'm supposed to have… it's gone.

In place of the degrading, witty remark I was so used to, I got another smile (two in one day!? – what was she playing at?), before Lily kept walking down the corridor.

"How could that possibly be Lily Evans?" I asked disbelievingly. It felt weird, after everything that had gone down between us.

"Well let's see: green eyes…check," Sirius began counting on his fingers (presumably because he'd lose count if he didn't), "Red hair… check, take-no-prisoners-Nazi-attitude… not check – must be good day. Female gender… questionable –"

I ignored all of this, mainly because Sirius was crazy and in any case, the past five minutes had left me feeling strangely awkward.

- - - - - - - - --

"Come in, dear children. I'd foreseen that you would be late in any case, so let's not waste any more precious time now, shall we?"

It was amazing – just when you though that voice couldn't sound any dreamier (or stoned, rather) … it did.

As we entered the room I couldn't help but notice the waft of smells. But then again, Divination was not Divination if there were no suspicious smells recognised directly after entry to the room.

Sirius and I placed our bags down and sat next to Peter (Remus had a nerdy class on at the same time) at the Marauding Divination Table. Which we'd originally set out to name, but had gotten lazy halfway through.

I glanced around the room.

Yep, as usual, the class was noticeably missing a couple of students. Divination was probably the only class that students didn't feel guilty skipping. I know I certainly didn't.

"Right. Now, about your assessment for this term -"

Oh crap… we have assessment for this class.

"- you will need partners. So I'd like you all to pair up please."

If I could do basic maths, we had three people at our bench.

"Professor?"

"Yes, Mr Potter?"

"We – er – have three people."

"Ahmm. Yes. Yes indeed. Well the stars and the moon have spoken," (perhaps those suspicious smells _were_ suspicious…) "How about you go with Lily Evans?"

What the f-

"Sorry?"

Up until this point in my life, I hadn't been aware that my voice could pitch that high.

"You can partner with Miss Evans, if it's not too much trouble. I'm sure she doesn't bite."

I was slightly sceptical about that last statement.

"Oh, yes. Of course."

Either way, it was my lucky day. I promptly moved to the vacant seat next to Lily.

And thus my blood pressure increased tenfold.

I smiled a handsome smile to Lily, and couldn't help but think that I'd had a dream that went something like this…

"She's wrong, you know," Lily leaned in closer to me and whispered, "Sometimes… I _do_ bite." Funnily enough the scepticism didn't return.

Had I been eighty-something years old, I would have had a heart attack right there.

Lily. Had. Just. Flirted. With. _Me._ That is not her style.

She grinned at my shocked expression and leaned back calmly.

"Today we will be crystal gazing. Make note that you have an assignment due in exactly one month. In terms of class preparation, you shall work with your assigned partner for the entire task -" I glanced at Lily, who had apparently been staring at me like some crazed stalker. When our eyes met, she smiled a little too enthusiastically and batted her eyelids. "- remember, you cannot learn the innermost, innerfelt, interesting powers of the inner eye in small time confinements." That's a lotta "in's".

"On that note: Get to it, class!"

"How great is it that we're partners? We're definitely a good pair," Lily smiled slyly.

Having no idea of how I should react to this, I went with a classic – the nervous laugh.

"You know what… I'm just gonna get a crystal ball."

I sped over to the shelves and took a deep breath. This was _strange._

The rest of the lesson followed a pattern: Lily flirts, I'm weirded out; Lily flirts, I get a little used to it; Lily flirts, I flirt back.

"So… your turn to gaze," I told her.

"Gaze? Into your dreamy eyes, do you mean?"

I laughed.

"If you like, but it might be more productive if you gazed into the crystal ball?"

Lily pouted.

"Fine," she pretended to be annoyed.

As she gazed into the glowing crystal ball, I couldn't help but notice her eyes reflecting the light perfectly, bringing out the extreme green colour they had.

"See anything of interest?" I asked her.

"Mmm… I see you… and me, walking along. The sun is setting behind us and we're holding hands. Then we stop, look at each other and - "

The bell rang loudly, cutting her off.

I released my (apparently held) breath and the tension in my shoulders vanished.

"Saved by the bell!" I laughed awkwardly and began packing my books with admirable speed.

"Aren't you lucky… this time," said the incredibly horny Lily in her dominatrix "almost seductive but more like completely petrifying" voice.

I smiled weakly once more, to hide my grimace. It had seemed natural at one point through the lesson… but somehow she had flipped back to the extremely strange Lily. The one who I would not at all be shocked if told she was a sex addict.

I nodded a goodbye and promptly began to run (or power walk) out of the room.

I saluted myself on another quick escape. GO, Potter, go! Women were so –

"James?! James, wait up!"

And so the complete un-success of my escape kicked in.

Nothing I could possibly have done in the five seconds I had could possibly have prepared me for the events to follow.

In a fashion I would normally have called "fantasy" or "dream like", Lily caught up to me, all smiley in a cute but not entirely innocent way.

"Hey," she said ever-so-softly. I could basically hear the violins in the background.

And of course, I _could_ hear the violins over the hum of tension between us in the deserted hallway. It was a loud hum of tension too – had Sirius been present he would have stomped his feet and stuck a Spanish pose, and said (most likely in a French accent, such was the power of his brain), "Sex-u-ale ten-si-on!"

"Hi," I breathed. How amazingly feminine of me.

She stepped exceptionally close to me, stood on her tippy toes and looked up at me (after all, she was shorter than normal and I was too tall). Leaning forwards, I thought she was going to kiss me, but instead she turned my head and whispered in my ear.

"I'm free this Friday night… anything you wanted to ask me?"

She withdrew to close-proximity-but-without-close-faces stance.

"Erm…" I cleared my throat, "Well – er – if you aren't busy, wich you aren't because you told me, so I already know that uh… if you're not busy perhaps you'll, um -"

I stopped. This was strange. It was like something was holding me back from asking her out…

"Would you…" I attempted again.

But I stopped. Something wasn't right. I was forgetting something important…

"Yes…?" Lily prompted, placing her arms on my shoulders.

And then it clicked.

The Deal!

That evil… ball of evil… bitch. She was trying to get me to ask her out.

Well, I'd show her. I am _not _that gullible.

"James?" Lily asked, concerned, most likely, with the slowness of my brain function.

I leant in really, really close to her.

"You… are _so_ evil," I said with a smirk eviler than my tone of voice.

"What? What do you mean?"

"I know what you're trying to do… and it won't work."

Immediately Lily put a metre between us and crossed her arms over her chest defensively.

"Well, I know what _you're _doing and _it_ won't work," she said triumphantly.

"We'll just see about that," I said, completely calm.

"Keep dreamin' sweetie," I tried to ignore how much I loved her calling me 'sweetie', particularly in that voice.

"You too, sugar!" And another witty remark from Potter Incorporated.

"That was cutting it very fine, you know. I almost had you, Potter."

"Oh, and you'd just _love_ to have me," I said cheekily.

"Dream on."

"Believe me, I will," smiling mischievously.

I knocked shoulders as we passed each other, making menacing faces all the way; storming off in different directions.

I was going to win this deal if it killed me.

Fifty metres later, I realised I was storming off in the wrong direction.

Bollocks.

_**A/N: So I hope this goes down well. Plus sorry about the … er… long wait. I sure wish that this makes up for all the time, though I have the sneaky feeling it doesn't. **_

_**100 love,**_

_**Michelle**_

_**(Oh and psst: it was my birthday yesterday … [yes, that was a very subtle hint ;))**_


	8. Where We Stand Now & Plans

**Chapter Eight:** "Where We Stand Now" & "Plans"

_**A/N: Okay, so this is a two-part chapter. Why? Pretty much because neither was really long enough to be a whole chapter, and I think they run off each other too much to be separated. Enjoy!**_

_"__Where We Stand Now__"__-__Lily_

"Where do we stand now?"

A very valid question, at this point in time. It was because so much had happened; we didn't know where it left us. And I, for one, found that disturbing.

Or perhaps I was more disturbed by the fact that I hadn't left my room in a good forty-eight hours. I'd really just been mulling over my encounter at Dvination with James. If you can call trading in your soul, _shred_ of sanity and all sense of dignity for a stupid bet you forcefully insisted continue an 'encounter', then yeah – sure. Point is, I'm ashamed of my hideous actions in Divination and am yet to discover where they came from.

In my true style, I'd thought that fighting fire with fire (or in this case: stupid immaturity with stupider immaturity) would work. I'd hoped to beat him hands down and legs tied.

And what had happened? I'd scarred myself for life. I never even though that was possible, always thought that that particular job had been reserved for the one and only Mr Potter. Mean, yes, he's definitely played a large role. I wouldn't have inflicted such things upon myself if it weren't for him.

I suppose we're a bad mix of insane people, really. Imagine if we had kids… not that we'd ever, ever… you know… do _that, _but just say hypothetically – our offspring could match Jack the Ripper in the sanity department.

So – 'where do we stand now?' was a question I'd desperately been trying to answer ever since flirt-a-thon the other da.

Did my outrageous display of behavior mark war between us? Would I have to step up my game? Would I have to… put myself out there, like some hormone-fuelled teenager?

This was so unlike me. My plans normally are amazing and flawless. THs time round, it had sounded good on paper, but ended up placing me in a horrible position where I didn't know where I stood. For the first time I was uncertain about what was happening between James Potter and myself.

If you ask me (and you _do)_, I liked it better when I hated him.

But hate seems a tad difficult at the moment. It's all about winning now. Not so much the emotions but what's at stake – I would never date James Potter. Not because he's unattractive, or mean, or completely boring as a person – he has great qualities – and I do (just a teeny-tiny bit) like his company. The deal had ruined all dating prospects now.

As stupid and slightly hypocritical as it sounded, I would not date him. I would, however, sink so low as to flirt shamelessly like some silly tart, but dating? No longer an option.

So it had come down to a battle to the death.

Perhaps I should re-phrase, that was too melodramatic.

It had come down to fighting through vile, unorthodox, rule-breaking, unfair and ruthless ways in order to win a bet so as not to lose and end up dating James Potter, thus forcing myself to take the only option of suicide and therefore resulting in my death.

I suppose a battle to the death might be a good way of putting it…

The worst thing about the past two days had been the curiosity. Since James' plan had been all about pranking as hard and fast as possible, locking myself away from reality under the pretense of illness (the hospital wing allowed prefects who didn't need so much supervision leave to their rooms) had really been the only option in order to restrain my inner prefect.

Only trouble was it had left me dying to know what they'd done.

Curiosity killed the Lily.

Of course, this curiosity was inadequately satisfied by the rumours I'd heard by dorm mates talking yesterday evening. From what I'd heard, the Marauders had been going as epic as they could.

Bloody drama queens. I bet Sirius was behind most of them.

_Tap __tap__tap_

Fantastic. Now I am beginning to hear noises.

_Tap __tap__tap_

And 'taps' no less… I couldn't hear anything cool? Of course not.

_Tap __tap__tap__. Tap __tap__tap_

Annoyed now…

_Tap __tap__tap__. Tap –_

"SHUTTUP!"

Oh crap. I did not just yell that. It would appear that I once again, needed therapy. _Not _sex therapy, mind you.

_Tap __tap__tap_

I could cry. It's not fair! Why am I doomed to insanity?!

_Tap __tap__tap_

Just as I was about to surrender and beg for mercy from the tapping… monster thing, I looked out the window to see a tiny little owl tapping on the panes.

YES! I don't hear voices.

Always a positive, that is.

I let the owl inside and was pleased to find a message attached.

"Thank you!" I said in a degrading baby-voice to the cute little owly-wowly.

It bit me. Then proceeded to fly away.

Ungrateful, winged, lesser-being.

I looked at the note attached to the owl, and very slowly opened it – I knew who it was from.

"_Dearest Lily,_"

I couldn't help but feel my stomach flutter. I hoped that it was the three packets of chocolate frogs I'd eaten earlier.

"_I am writing to inform you of today's successes from my end of the battle. Indeed, this is my attempt to rub salt into the wounds, if you take my meaning (it's an old trick I learnt from __Siri__-boy)._"

The always charming Mr Potter then went on to list twenty or so measly pranks he (with the help of his friends, undoubtedly) had performed. It was strange really, because not one of them was severe enough to cause me to care.

He then concluded,

"_May this be only a taste of the feast to __come._

_With love, always,_

_James Potter._"

So strange how he could write such a mean letter, and top it off with his usual declaration of love.

Didn't James Potter just have that knack of getting under my skin and sitting there?

How irritating.

In my annoyed state, I realised that there was possibly the only good thing that had come out of James' brilliant letter – I knew exactly where I stood: this was war.

_"__Where We Stand Now__"__– __James_

"Where do we stand now?"

Well, I knew exactly where _I_ stood – under the Beech Tree, on this cold night.

But that's not really what the question was in reference to, was it?

It has a deeper, more meaningful… er… meaning.

I am James Potter, and I'm not ashamed to admit that I'm not so good with 'deep' stuff.

I do do it on occasions where doing it is due, but otherwise I like to keep on the lighter side of life (which is, mostly, shallow-ish).

So, where _did_ I stand, in the deep-and-meaningful sense?

Somewhere _bloody weird_.

(I told you I wasn't good with the deep or the meaningful).

One part of me thought I was being ridiculously stupid with this deal I'd now gotten myself very deep (Oh, the irony…) into because – firstly, it was so hard to prank so intensely and secondly, I couldn't help but feel that I was killing my already strained, almost non-existent, relationship with Lily with every stupid prank.

The other half thought this deal was the best thing that had every happened, because I was confident that I would come out on top (and I'm sure Sirius would take that wording in the rudest way possible).

And as if that didn't confuse the blimey out of me, I had to go and send that letter to Lily.

I'm a man – emotions where _not_ my forte… this foreign 'confusion' thing was incredibly hard to keep under control.

To make things completely and utterly worse, I was probably having the most interaction with Lily I'd ever had. Ever.

Only trouble was that most of the interaction involved either or both of us feeling as if we'd lost our sanity (which is simply ridiculous, because I'm sure we both lost our sanity's long, long ago) or Lily hitting on my like some strangely possessed veela.

I really couldn't decide whether the whole 'Divination Flirtation' as Sirius and Pete had started naming it, was entirely mortifying or soul-ratifying.

I kept having these flashing images in my sleep… Lily's hand touching mine, Lily smiling from across the table, … Lily batting her eyelashes like a demented transvestite …(the last one usually woke me with a start)

So the point was: no matter how much I got the feeling I was ruining any chance of being wth Lily ever, I was addicted, in a way, to the time spent with her as a result of the deal.

As a consequence of this completely complicated to-the-point-of-being-feminine realization, I was playing the game.

Hence the aforementioned letter sent to aforementioned Eyelash-Batting-Demented-Transvestite, more commonly known as Lily 'unrequited love' Evans.

In retrospect, the letter was probably going a little too far, but I needed to provoke a response – she hasn't left her dormitory in two days! Normally I'd just get up the stairs using my heart-stopping magic abilities, but the letter had seemed more dramatic than an actual confrontation.

Also, I was scared she'd try to pull the moves on me. That Evans has a mouth like a snake… you never know how it can trick you. And I'm about seventy-six percent sure that made no sense whatsoever.

For better or for worse, the letter was done.

I had only to decide where to go next.

Not that I had many options –there was only one place I could go.

Something big.

Something new.

Something so far over the line, that the line could no longer be seen.

Something – oh bollocks, I needed Marauder brain power for this.

I rolled my shoulders.

Despite the fact that no one could hear me, I spoke into the silence of the night.

"Watch out, Evans. I know where I stand, and it's right in your pretty little face."

And with that menacing comment, I regained assurance in my masculinity.

And decided to move out of the cold before I risked freezing my recently-assured masculinity off.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

_"Plans" _

"Where have you been? Get lost in this castle of amazing mystery and wonder? Coz you know, we made a map for that…"

James grinned at me… and the way his ees were all widened kind of freaked me out. In the 'Oh my! My best friend is a psycho killer!' kind of way.

"Nothing, I'm just really happy and excited…" James frowned a little, "and a whole lot of other emotions which I refuse to name in fear of doubting my masculinity. Again."

I'd say he's an odd fellow. In a really… odd way.

"Uh huh," I looked from left to right, shiftily, "and can I ask what brings on this surge of emotion?"

James grinned again. I grimaced; he really should practice that one in the mirror.

"Oh, I just had a moment of realization," James said proudly, puffing his chest out slightly.

Picture me alarmed. And scared. Very alarmed and scared.

Cue Pete and Moony, who entered the dorm room.

"Gentlemen!" I welcomed them in deep tones – incredibly manly, no doubt – and with outstretched arms. My aim, of course, was to be as manly as possible in the midst of James the-almost-girl Potter, and pray to various high powers in an attempt to pass some of my manliness, via osmosis… in air… (okay so I don't understand the meaning of that word entirely, but it's just a darned good word and I will _never_ admit that to Remus. Never!) to James. And I mentally exhale, because that's the most thought I've had in a while.

Moony and Pete pulled expressions of confusion, apparently slightly (but not entirely, this is me, of course) surprised at my masculinity outburst. They looked at each other and shrugged.

And suddenly the arms of Pete were wrapped around me, smiting my plans of masculinity osmosis.

"Pete… _Pete!_" I gently shoved him off of my toned abdomen… section, "That's enough hugging, don't cha think? Yeah."

Somehow my voice had gone up an octave… blast!

Peter cleared his throat.

"S-sorry… I got carried away…" he explained to his toes.

"S'alright," I said, hoping to erase the moment from my memory as soon as possible.

"What's been happening? Anything interesting?" Moony asked, changing the subject.

"James had a moment of realization," I informed Moony, then added in a mumble, "If you count that as 'interesting'."

Apparently Moony _did_ count that as interesting.

It was as if his ears had actually perked up.

"_Really?_"

"Really," I deadpanned. I can't remember where I got these friends.

Moony did this strange kind of internal squeal…very feminine. Are all my friends girls?!

"Well…what was it about?"

He sounded very much like a girl about to receive hot gossip at one of those slumber parties.

Not that I have an idea of what goes on at slumber parties.

I mean, nail-polish, make-overs, secrets – but that doesn't mean I'm any more feminine, just because I know those things.

No, not at all. I'm just educated, is all.

I was pleased to escape my thoughts when James began revealing his revelation. Oh no, wait – 'realisation'.

"Well, first I was all deep and think-y, then I thought about the deal and if you skip all the boring parts – we need to devise the ultimate prank," he paused, "oh, and I'm undoubtedly masculine."

Well, unexpected, for sure.

Remus felt the same, but in a more negative kind of way, judging by the look on his face. He was probably just irritated James hadn't had a more knowledge-ful realisation.

"A prank? James – explanation, please," the prefect in him shone through.

"I need the ultimate prank, one that won't fail, but will be intangibly spectacular, and subsequently force Lily Evans to tell on me. Us."

This sounded almost too good – 'ultimate prank', 'spectacular'…

"James, don't you think it's about time you realised you're not going to win this deal you have going on by pranking? I mean, yeah, sure – you might _win_, but what makes you so sure Lily will even adhere to your terms, and even if she does, will she actually return the feelings you have for her? I think it's all a little silly. It's gone on for too long – it needs to end."

Everyone froze in silence. Even I felt the sense weaved throughout those words.

James finally spoke up, quietly and with a tone of utmost finality.

"It's too late for that now. I'm asking you all, as my friends to help me with an amazing, all-out prank. I'm not here to discuss issues of morality because I don't know how exactly this will turn out and I'm not sure how I feel… so, ideas?"

And I completely admired his strength in that moment. So decisive.

For a while, the silence continued, and I could feel Moony was having a mental debate of whether he should say something else.

"I have an idea…"

We spun our heads around to face Pete, in complete disbelief.

"What?!"

We all continued our stares of surprise.

"I have ideas too, you know."

"Yes, it's just… rare."

Pete sniffed, "Well, I do have an idea. I've always wanted to do it, but it's kind of all out and there's never been the right occasion for it…"

Wow, Peter was secretly a hardcore plotter… I'd never have guessed.

"Okay then, well… let's hear it."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Oh. Curly. Merlin," I said in awe, "Pete, why have you _never_ mentioned this before?!"

Talk about brilliant mastermind. I'd hate to see him go evil.

Peter reddened in the face of the limelight he was receiving.

James smiled.

"There's only a couple of things I could add… but hold on just one minute."

He stood and promptly began walking out of the dormitory.

Wait – _where_ exactly is he going?! We start scheming on a brilliant scale and he has something to add but decides to take a stroll?!

"You can't leave me here like this! All unknowledge-able and defenceless!" I declared, perhaps a tad too dramatically, considering the circumstances.

"Padfoot, calm down… I was only going to the bathroom for one second -"

"We don't have a second! This is the biggest plan I'm ever probably going to do…"

James rolled his eyes and proceeded to the bathroom despite my continuing words of shock and abandonment.

It could only be described in one word:

Thwarted.

_**A/N: Hope you liked the two-**__**parter**__**. The next two chapters should end this **__**fic**__**, so it could be a slight wait while I try to tie everything up.**_

_**Having nothing else to say, I end this rattling on that I do oh-so-well.**_

_**100Love,**_

_**Michelle**_


	9. Unexpectations

_**A/N: I **_**loved**_** writing this chapter. Seriously – it's like the best. I'm also aware that I have slightly ripped Anchorman. But it's only slight. And Pocahontas – I'm aware that it was made in 1995, wayyyy before the Marauders' era, but for my purposes, you're gonna have to ignore that.**_

Disclaimer: I own not Harry Potter, nor any of the characters. But they're fun to play with.

**- - - - - - **

**Chapter Nine: ****Un-expectations ****(or "The Night Before Christmas: Only not at all Christmas, and during the day"… but that title was too long.)**

(and yes, I know that "un-expectations" isn't a word … but I think it sounds cool?)

- - - - - - -

I am not really quite sure how it all happened, really.

The day had started in a seemingly normal fashion… and yet I somehow found myself holding a video camera (enhanced with a stoke of magic, of course), and recording my self-obsessional best friend. Doing strange things.

Not _those_ kinds of strange things.

But certainly strange things such as reporting news that no one with a speck of sanity was going to watch.

"Thanks for watching, I'm Sirius Black – you keep charming, Hogwarts!" Sirius pulled a disturbingly cheesy grin. A grin that faded incredibly quickly as I put down the camera.

"What exactly do you call _that_, Moony?" he demanded, "You had the angle dodgy the _whole _way through."

"Oh get over it, you bloody drama queen -"

"Hello, male!" Sirius indicated to himself.

"- whatever. The point is you're being extremely pedantic."

"I prefer 'perfectionist' – don't you understand? This is art! We're creating a very deep part of someone's emotional life here! We _are_ the news. Well, at least this part of recording was anyway - " I rolled my eyes," – _I_ am the news! The news is art! Art is life! Life is -"

"Sirius?" I cut him off, slightly disturbed by the number of extravagant gestures he was using.

"Yes, it is rather ser - oh, right. What is it, Moony me lad?"

"Shut it. Now."

I mean, honestly. All this garbage about art and life, when his sign off _sucked._

Sirius dropped his jaw. Then shut it again.

He closed his eyes and placed his right hand over his heart.

"You -" he pointed at me – or, at least, my left shoulder – fiercely, whilst I eyed him sceptically, "- you speak blasphemously!"

"Oh. I'm sorry, Sirius," sarcasm dripped from my tongue.

"Thanks, Moony!" Sirius said with the largest smile (eyes now open) I'd ever seen. Obviously he'd missed the sarcasm.

"Git," I muttered under my breath.

"What?"

"Oh – nothing. I was just praising the news… er… Gods, is all."

That was not at all convincing.

"Good man, that's alright then."

But when did you really have to be convincing around Sirius? He: a) is melodramatic (and could pass for any daytime soap star, if he wanted to… or at least if he knew what a daytime soap _was_); and b) hears what he wants to hear.

"I'm wondering if taking a break is sounding like a good plan to you?"

Sirius frowned.

Sirius' stomach grumbled.

Sirius looked down at his offending stomach.

"Bloody hell! I hate you," he reprimanded his own bodily parts.

"I'm going to accept that as a grand 'yes'."

I promptly collapsed on the grass.

Sirius withdrew a green apple from his robes and joined me on the ground.

"Where'd you get that from?" I asked, irritated by the way he could so smoothly produce the fruit, and then proceed to eat it in such a carefree way I had no chance of ever mastering.

"Dunno," Sirius shrugged, examining the apple, "I think it's been in there for a while… couple of months?"

"Eugh – yuck, it's probably gone rotten…"

"Oh _please_. Apples don't go rotten!" he rolled his eyes pointedly.

He then took a slow, leisurely bite out of his "un-rotten" apple.

I watched (with a slight sense of satisfaction… or was it disgust?) as he gagged and – in no pleasant way – spat out his mouthful.

I raised my eyebrows, not wanting to actually say "I told you so".

"Okay, _fine:_ Apples can go rotten, you were right…. Blah di blah!"

I inhaled with validation – I loved these moments.

I quite possibly _lived_ for these moments.

"I hope this works…" Sirius stared off into the distance.

I rolled my eyes – honestly it's _just_ some stupid video.

"Sirius, it's okay if it doesn't work out."

"Are you _kidding?_ Of course it wouldn't be okay! This is the biggest plan we've ever though of… it's a whole new level. I mean, what if we try to jump up to it, but instead fall short, bash our knees and fall into the depths of failure?!"

It struck me that perhaps he may not be talking about the video…

"Sirius, are we talking about the same thing here?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Well, I meant the video thing…"

"Oh… sorry, I was talking about the big plan tomorrow," he paused, "but hey! It _does_ matter if the video doesn't work out."

"Yes, but tomorrow is perhaps a little more important, don't you think?"

Sirius seemed to have a pause for thought before he conceded, "Right y'are, Moony!"

We fell silent for a moment.

"I think our plan's gonna work…" Sirius sounded honest.

"I do too, it just… it's not the right way to be doing this. He's just going to end up expelled and Lily-less… or at least Lily-less."

"That's probably true, but -"

"What?" I asked in disbelief.

"I _said_, 'that's probably true'."

I shot him a sceptical look.

"What? I can't be slightly insightful too? I can see this isn't the best way. But James is my friend, and this is exactly what he wants to do – so I'll stick with him."

I felt tears of pride in my eyes – Sirius had said something he'd thought about.

"Besides," he continued, "It's gonna be a _hell_ of a load of fun…"

And so the proud moment and impending tears passed.

"Hell is the right word…"

"Oh, come on Moony! Even _you_ can't deny the fun-factor in this one."

"Yes, you're right. It's just my brain has issues deciding whether the 'stupid' is more important than the 'fun'…"

Sirius slapped me on my back.

"Well, let's not dwell on the future, Moony my pal, but instead… film some more!"

He jumped up enthusiastically and began planning his next shot.

I sighed; I _really_ don't know how this happened.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Three… Two… One….

The bell rang, signalling the end of class and therefore the regaining of my freedom. I hadn't been aware that time could travel quite so slowly.

It took me a good thirty seconds to return to my senses after all of that daydreamy-abyss, at which point in time I began packing my things away. The last members of the class finally left, leaving me completely alone.

Or not.

Warm breath blew over my ear and neck as he spoke softly.

"Bit slow off the mark, aren't you, Evans?"

I was extremely aware of how close he must be, but was determined not to reveal this in my tone of voice.

"Speed might be everything on a broomstick, Potter," I deliberately chose to use his last name, "but when packing up books – not so much an issue."

He chuckled.

"Right you are, _Evans,_" he persisted in his calm, low voice, "but now you're here with me."

What the hell had gotten into him today?

"A keen observation. Are you sure you actually _need_ glasses? You sound pretty good at the whole seeing-with-the-eyes thing, to me."

He stepped closer from behind me, pressing his body against mine.

My breathing seemed to stop, and despite my desperate need to move, my feet remained glued to the ground. Perhaps I didn't want to display any signs of weakness by moving… perhaps there were other reasons.

Reasons I wouldn't – or couldn't – think about.

Either way, thought was near impossible with so much was rushing through my brain.

When he spoke, I suddenly turned my head to the side, in an attempt to see him.

"It's just us, alone. You and me…" he tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

I felt his arms slide around my waist, and immediately the goosebumps rippled over my flesh.

And then – thanking Merlin, God, as well as anyone else vaguely important – my conscience, mind and – well, self was kicked into action.

I pulled myself out of his arms and stepped around my desk, so that it was between us.

"What the _hell_ are you doing?"

James only smirked, erasing any sign of shock he'd displayed at my movement.

"Just…paying you back for Divination the other day."

Internally something twisted , in an I-am-angry kind of way.

I had really hoped I'd never have to think about that ever again.

Clearly James' aim had been to strike a nerve, so I deeply inhaled and exhaled – determined not to let him win.

"Yeah, well, you've forgotten one thing."

"Oh? Have I? And what's that?"

"Our deal. I'm certain I win now," I said triumphantly.

James only laughed.

I crossed my arms, a little – a lot – annoyed by this response.

"What?" I was irritated.

"Oh, Lily-flower. Did I ask you out at all?" He asked meaningfully.

My mind sorted itself out all too quickly and I groaned inwardly, refusing to meet his eyes.

"So," he continued in a dominating tone which only served to heighten my anger towards him at this current point in time, "I think you'll find… you haven't won at all."

I glared at him as hard as I possibly could. His confidence – arrogance –

"Right. Well congratulations. You 'paid me back'," I all but spat.

I began packing my things with extra speed and force, desperately trying to erase the experience from my memory.

"You know, if I didn't know any better," his voice was incredibly calm, despite my apparent anger, "I'd say you really enjoyed that…"

Erasing memories was looking difficult. I pretended not to hear him, hoping that ignoring him would perhaps send the appropriate "get lost" message I was aiming for.

"And who'd have thought? Us -"

I shoved a book into my bag, forcefully.

"- being so heated. You know -"

_Shove._ And in with another text.

"- in a sexual way."

I grabbed my bag and began to leave the classroom.

I had to get out of here. 'Sexual' was one of the words that was on the banned list in terms of conversing with James Potter.

"You now what I think?" He stepped in front of the doorway, blocking my way.

"Move."

"I think that you _did_ like that, and I think that you have some feelings for me."

His voice lost it's cockiness in the last half of his sentence, and changed into an honest, compassionate tone.

His eyes were looking into mine, curious and affectionate behind his spectacles. I couldn't decide whether I loved or hated the ease with which he could look at me, so openly displaying his feelings.

Feelings I denied him.

It was this change in his composure that indicated the truth in his words more than anything. More than the feeling in my gut, or my desperate thoughts trying to tell me that I "anything but liked him".

"Oh, _absolutely,_ Potter. I adore you so much… with a relationship as _deep_ and _romantic_ as ours, it's a wonder we haven't set a date for the wedding yet, or planned baby names!" The sarcasm felt good; made me more at ease with the fact that perhaps I did feel something for him – helped me forget.

"I've always liked the though of having a James Junior…." He stroked his chin thoughtfully.

I ignored this.

"Wait – wait a minute," I said mockingly, "that's right – our 'relationship' is _non-existent._"

James rolled his eyes and ran his hands through his already perfectly messed hair.

"Now now, Lily dear – of _course_ we have a relationship."

I gritted my teeth. His persistence was unhinging me.

"No, we don't," I managed to force out.

He stepped closer, bending down slightly to my height.

"I bet you couldn't even look me in the eye and say to me that you don't feel even a little bit for me."

I couldn't honestly say it, especially when he had eyes like he did, no. But there was something in my nature that wasn't going to let me not say it, despite the lack of truth or belief I had in it.

I sighed, tired of this exchange between us. I liked it better when he was afraid I'd hate him forever. Now he's sure I like him, and is stepping over the carefully distinguished lines I'd made as boundaries for our relationship.

Nevertheless, I looked at him directly in the eye, "I don't feel – even a little bit – for you."

Mentally, I congratulated myself on the calm tone of voice I'd maintained through that statement.

James seemed to be knocked off his feet for a split second, but almost instantly found his composure.

"I don't believe you."

"Fine," I shrugged, "No one's going to make you."

This superiority I'd found was working nicely.

James seemed to become suddenly angry at this.

"You know what, Evans?"

"What?" I took a step so I was right in his face. Well, below it, at least.

He drew his face extremely close to mine, giving me the impression – for a split second – that he was going to kiss me.

"I'm going to win this deal, and you won't see it coming."

And with that, he stormed out of the room so quickly, leaving me only to my thoughts.

- - - - - - - - -

A lot of people say I'm easily influenced, and slash or, manipulated.

Perhaps it's my height, my slight flab, or even my less-than-perfect skills in magic which made me fit the label of 'vulnerable'.

I wasn't, however, 'vulnerable' or whatever you want to call it.

No, I can stand on my own two feet, thank you very much.

Maybe I'm not as strong as others, but that doesn't mean I rely on them, nor do I let myself be 'manipulated'.

Truth is, I'm really just labelled by other people. For example, I'm the 'weakest' Marauder. Well, that's not true! I'm the key role in stopping the Whomping Willow every full moon, and also, I'm –

"C'mon, Pete, you call _that_ duelling?!" Sirius yelled from behind his camera.

I tried desperately harder to sword-fight the bewitched suit of armour; faltering as it gained the advantage, pushing down against my sword.

"Cut!" Sirius stopped the tape. "What's wrong with you, mate? That was bloody awful."

"Yeah, well, this _thing_ –" I gestured to the suit of armour, which was currently stationary, "- is kinda difficult to fight!"

"What do you mean?" Sirius asked, rolling his eyes.

Sometimes I thought even my _friends_ thought I was weak.

"It means the spell you used has made it too strong, and there's no way I'm going to be able to win against it!"

Sirius put his hands on his hips, "But the whole point _is,_ is that it's hard for you to win against it. How else where there be a build up of tension and release?"

"Well, that doesn't mean it _actually_ has to be so hard. I could just, you know, _act_ as thought it were hard."

Sirius clicked his finger and placed it to his temple.

"Right… right," he said, lost in thought, "_acting_." His eye widened at what was clearly some sort of revelation for him.

After several minutes watching Sirius staring into space, I spoke up.

"Uh, so… do you wanna get that fixed up then?"

"What?"

"The suit of armour…"

"Oh, yeah. Let's – er – finish for today, then."

I sighed with relief. I really couldn't take any more suicidal fighting. Suicidal, I was sure, because I would have ended up dead.

Sirius turned off his camera.

"To the dormitory!" he cried, in superhero-style.

"Indeed!" I added, in the same tone.

Sirius rolled his eyes at me when he thought I wasn't looking.

I was.

- - - - -

"The air was thick; you could cut the tension with a knife. Presuming, of course, that tension _can _be cut… The sound of what could _only_ be the sound of a wizard drawing his wand- " Sirius paused, and the sound of his low, intense, narrator's-voice stopped.

I rolled my eyes, waiting for his brain to process the information.

"- _Wait a minute_… that's not even a sound," he pouted.

I could only wish that Remus was here, just so I could hear the sound of his hand smacking his own head. Or better still – the upside of Sirius'.

We were on our way up to our dormitory (which, by the way – had suddenly become longer), and, unfortunately, Sirius thought that narration was the most important part of his life at the moment. Naturally, I was on the listen-and-become-braindead end of the 'conversation' – which for the record: was a lecture in disguise.

"No, indeed it is _not_ a sound, Padfoot," I said, lacking a little of the squeak-factor in my voice.

"How am I ever going to get this narration business right?" Sirius huffed.

I considered this seriously for a couple of moments, not sensing the rhetorical…ness in that question.

"Well, you could watch some animal documentaries. I mean, they always have some crazy South-African person doing it, elongating the weirdest of vowels… in fact, I'm sure they're not even really vowels, more like -"

Sirius stopped dead in his tracks, just outside the door to our dormitory, placing a hand to his lips to silence me.

"What?" I mouthed.

He pointed deliberately towards the door, then pressed his ear against it.

And just when you thought he _couldn't_ get battier….

I imitated his movements.

Then I understood – there were sounds… it was like Remus was talking to someone… with an orchestra to provide appropriate background music.

"_I told him it would make my heart soar…_"

Sirius and I shared a look, as we realised that both Remus and the person to whom he was talking to, were saying exactly the same thing. At exactly the same time.

It was time to burst open the door.

Sirius and I burst open the door and froze.

Remus had apparently not noticed our entry – despite its incredible noise level.

"Marry Kocoum?" he said in unison with the small enchanted television in front of him, "but he's so… serious!"

There was no mistaking the expression on his face; the pure intensity with which he was involved with the screen.

Sirius cleared his throat. Loudly.

Remus practically jumped out of his skin, snapping his head around to face us.

And then we experienced what could have been the longest moment of awkward surprise ever experienced in the whole history of the whole world.

Thought function kicked in: we had just caught Remus Lupin – _Moony _– not only _watching_ but _reciting_ the lines of…

"Pocahontas?" Sirius' eyebrow was quirked at an impossible angle.

Remus flushed a new kind of red. "Well, you know… it's a classic," he managed to get out, albeit slightly shamefully.

And then Sirius lost it. He laughed manically, as Remus and I looked at him perplexedly.

I only wished James would enter, already.

There's something to be said for impeccable timing, for at that instant, James Potter entered the room.

Well if that's the way it's gonna work… I wished for toned and flawless muscles.

Damn.

"What's wrong with him," James nodded his head in the direction of Sirius.

"I…" I glanced at Remus, who was avoiding all eye contact, apparently still shocked that his little secret had been discovered. "Remus was – er – watching Pocahontas."

James shrugged. "It's a classic."

"See -" Remus spoke up enthusiastically, "that's what I said!"

Sirius sobered up a little.

"It's Pocahontas," he said incredulously.

"And it's a classic," James countered. "Now, if you don't mind – I'd rather hoped we could just run over things for tomorrow once more."

I nodded, feeling a slight sense of pride that it was ultimately, my plan.

Having been over all the details, I resigned myself to sleep.

It had been a long day for someone as not-vulnerable as me.

- - - - - -

"_So," I continued in a dominating tone, "I think you'll find… you haven't won at all."_

She glared at me – a glare I'd seen all too many times.

"_Right. Well congratulations. You 'paid me back'," she said coldly._

_She packed her things – a device, I was sure, to distract her from my presence._

"_You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you really enjoyed that…"_

_I was pushing my luck, and I knew it._

"_And who'd have thought? Us - being so heated. You know… in a sexual way."_

_I couldn't help it, the words were just flowing from my mouth. Teasing her, driving her insane… pissing her off, in the royal fashion._

_I saw the flash in her eyes. The desire, frustration…_

"_You now what I think?" _

_I blocked her way out. This conversation was far from over._

"_Move."_

"_I think that you did like that, and I think that you have some feelings for me."_

_Something came over me halfway through the sentence – a kind of sincerity I hadn't expected. And all I could do was look at her, hoping to somehow show how much I cared about her, even through my glasses. If I could get away with it, I would look at her like this all the time – but it wasn't right to do that, and every opportunity I got to look at her like this, I took. Just like now._

_Strangely enough, it didn't draw out insecurities, or feelings of hurt from years of rejection; it felt more like a fresh breath of air._

_And despite all this:_

"_Oh, absolutely, Potter. I adore you so much… with a relationship as deep and romantic as ours, it's a wonder we haven't set a date for the wedding yet, or planned baby names!" Her voice was sarcastic, but not at all entirely convincing._

"_I've always liked the though of having a James Junior…." _

_That part was true…_

"_Wait – wait a minute, that's right – our 'relationship' is non-existent."_

_I rolled my eyes, and my hands went to my hair, hoping to distract myself from the slight pain and perhaps impatience caused by her words._

"_Now now, Lily dear – of course we have a relationship."_

_If first you don't succeed…_

"_No, we don't," she was so uncertain, I just wanted to take her in my arms and tell her that it was okay – she could admit it to me; there was nothing to lose._

_I stepped closer, bending down slightly so I could look her in the eyes at her level. Wasn't my fault I was so tall._

"_I bet you couldn't even look me in the eye and say to me that you don't feel even a little bit for me."_

_She avoided my eyes, remaining silent._

_I gently place my hand on her chin, directing her face to mine, and capturing her perfect eyes._

_Because they were perfect to me._

_And suddenly – all so suddenly – she had pulled me down into a powerful intense kiss, wrapping her hands around my neck to draw me as close as physically possible._

_She pulled away, looking me in the eye._

"_Does that end all discussion on feelings?" _

"_If I say no, will you kiss me again?"_

_She just smiled, and kissed me again with all her perfection._

"_I love you," she murmured into my lips._

I bolted upright in my bed, frustrated when I realised it was just a dream.

"I love you, too," I whispered, hating reality with all I could muster.

- - - - - - - - - -

"_I don't feel – even a little bit – for you."_

_Mentally, I congratulated myself on the calm tone of voice I'd maintained through that statement._

_James seemed to be knocked off his feet for a split second, but almost instantly found his composure._

"_I don't believe you."_

"_Fine," I shrugged, "No one's going to make you."_

_This superiority I'd found was working nicely._

_James seemed to become suddenly angry at this._

"_You know what, Evans?"_

"_What?" I took a step so I was right in his face. Well, below it, at least._

_He drew his face extremely close to mine, giving me the impression – for a split second – that he was going to kiss me._

"_I'm going to win this deal, and you won't see it coming."_

"_Yeah, is that right?" I asked menacingly._

"_Damn right it's right!" _

_We were impossibly close._

"_Wow – arrogance. That's a new thing for you, isn't it, James?"_

"_Wow – sarcasm. And denial. Denial through sarcasm. That's a new thing for you, isn't it Lilydarling?"_

"_Shut up," I snapped, hating that he was right – yet again._

"_Make me."_

"_Fine."_

_And before he had a chance to react, I shoved him against the doorframe, not caring if his head knocked against it, and kissed him passionately._

"_Lily…" he murmured, before pushing me away forcefully._

_I only had enough time to write an expression of confusion on my face before he claimed me with his mouth._

_He ran his hands around my waist; my hands found his hair._

"_I love you James," I said as his lips found my neck, "Oh Merlin – I love you."_

My eyes snapped open.

Not _another_ dream. Not another one about _him._

This was not at all good.

- - - - -

I awoke slightly later in the day, enjoying a sleep in – weekends definitely had something going for them.

And then I remembered the reason I'd woken up earlier.

Oh God, here we go again… Lily with the lovin'.

It was horrifying, really. I was just thankful that I'd woken up when I did – who knows what would have happened if the dream had continued?

I shuddered at the thought; hoping that I was shuddering for the right reasons.

I tried my hardest not to think of the dream through the day.

Which was hard.

Really, really hard.

I mean, there were doorframes _everywhere_ in Hogwarts.

Doorframes just like the one I'd pushed dream-James up against, in the dream.

I decided to go to the only place in the castle which didn't have such doorframes – the lake.

On my way I noticed a couple of people making a slight fuss. Perhaps over something trivial, no doubt. I shrugged, continuing with my anti-doorframe thoughts.

It was a nice day for lake-ing, after all. What could possibly be a bad idea about that?

I approached the doors leading out to the lake, and opened them slowly.

Incredible noise rushed, hurting my ears.

And then my eyes adjusted to the light. And my jaw hit the ground.

_What could _possibly _be a bad idea about that?_

I was going to _murder_ James Potter.

_**To be concluded.**_

**A/N: Yes, yes – a cliffhanger. I'm really sorry, but I really wanted it to end like this. Don't worry, the next chapter will be up soon and it's – drum roll! – the last! **

**Hope you enjoyed reading this chapter as much as I did writing it. I also hope you liked the idea of the dreams.**

**100 Love,**

**Michelle**


	10. Feelings Not Withstanding

_**A/N: And so here it is (finally – I know, I know – I left you on a cliffie, and I'm forever apologetic, but the words just wouldn't flow until today, and I wanted it to be its best), the final chapter. Unfortunately, I don't feel it channels the humour I've tried to create through this story as well as I'd have liked, but as compensation of sorts there is some lovely fluff and obviously the plot finds itself tied up (hopefully without any mistakes…). I'd also like to add that the reference to crashing the bike into the rubbish bin is inspired by my older sister learning to ride a bike. I never intend to let her live it down, and so I mention it here (little sisters rule!). So without further babbling on my behalf, I present the tenth (FINAL!) chapter of **_**Dealing With A Marauder**_**. **_

_Dedication (because I'm a sap): To all the readers & reviewers who've lent their eyes, brains, other complicated body parts, time and hearts to this nowhere near perfect story – thanks and love, this chapter's for you._

**Previously, we left – rather up in the air – with Lily thinking murderous thoughts about James Potter, of course. She's beginning to work out her feelings, and this, predictably, only adds to her level of insanity and frustration. And here, we find out why, exactly, she wants to kill that Potter guy…**

* * *

_Chapter Ten: Feelings not withstanding_

* * *

"_**It's just like flying; only not in air!"**_

As an optimist – which many people _don't _believe, which is of course rid-ic-u-lous. I mean, just coz a guy's last name is the most ominous of colours… and his whole family is a bit insane, evil, dark and twisted… and the fact that he's burned down _that _many buildings… It doesn't mean _anything_. Really. I'm optimistic.

Not at all brood-y.

Anyway, as an optimist there are certain hopes and expectations one may have for their life.

You know. Moments of absolute elation… joy… happiness and so on, so forth.

A list of such moments may include riding a bike for the first time (providing of course, you don't tragically run it into the nearest possible garbage bin), getting married (I, uh, think? -- You know, if you're into the eternal commitment "til death do us part, and beyond!" type-thing) and, of course…

Waterskiing on the lake of your favourite, and only, magical high school.

This was pure bliss.

My water-skis bounced off a wave, sending me airborne for a moment, before I landed again on the water. A perfect show of skills, I'd wager.

I could only wonder why no one had told me about this great sport before. It almost outdid Quidditch.

Almost.

It _felt_ like I was flying, except there was a constant take off/land factor going on that made it ten zillion times better. And harder, I suppose. Which would explain why Peter isn't the one on the skis.

I bounced off another wave; I felt weightless and then –

SMASH! Or, more appropriately, SPLASH.

And it hurt (since when was water this hard?). And it was freezing. And was that –

James bloody Potter! _Laughing at me?!_

Well, I spose that wouldn't really be a first.

Then, in my true optimistic colours, I got up and continued battling the waves.

--

_"**Submission to Peer Pressure, the Consequences of"**_

It had never occurred to me that I had been peer pressured into anything particularly significant.

And by that I mean 'life or death' significant.

No, I had always had my wits about me. I'd had the strength to say, in a deep, strong voice: "No! For the sake of all things morally correct, and common sense, no!"

That is, at least, up until now.

A realisation which hit me when I was a couple of hundred metres above the ground, on a strip of wood, travelling at immeasurable speeds, where I was contemplating the end of my life.

Firstly, I haven't written a will. Which, I suppose isn't such a big deal since I am not an adult, and therefore technically speaking, don't own a thing.

Secondly, I had been peer pressured into this broom-ride and therefore into my death: smooth moves, Pete!

Thirdly, I haven't experienced the bliss of life adequately! No love, no loss, no firewhisky…

This was not at all good.

I couldn't die now.

My knuckles were white from my extreme grip on the broomstick.

It seemed to have mind of its own as well. I mean, steering? Near impossible.

You know, it sounded like a good idea at the time.

"Hey, Pete! Why don't you try the enchanted broomsticks?" Sirius had said.

"Yeah, Pete – that'll be fun!" James had encouraged.

"I don't see what could go too wrong with that, I mean, we tested them and they're safe…" Remus had added.

"Oh, yeah, well… sure!"

And that was all it took to convince me to take the ride of my life – or, more appropriately - death.

As if on cue and to my ultimate terror, the broomstick began to nose-dive.

Shit, shit, shit!

I leant back in the hope that this would somehow save me, and closed my eyes: this was it, this was how I was going to die.

And then I felt cold…and wet…

Gosh. What a weird place the afterlife was.

Something was tugging me upwards, and then a rush of sounds pierced the silence.

"Pete?"

That sounded a whole lot like Sirius…

"Pete?"

Well if Sirius was in my heaven, I'd just have to kick him out.

But Heaven-Sirius seemed to have beat me to that one.

"_Ouch!_"

My stomach was not accustomed to being kicked, and despite my not-quite-petite size, it _hurt._

My eyes flicked open, right into those of Sirius.

I screamed.

This was not Heaven. This was _hell._

Sirius grew perplexed.

"Pete, mate?"

"… Sirius? Is it really you?"

"Yep. The one and only. Are you really Peter? Because you're really starting to freak me out…"

I huffed. '_Was I still Peter_'! Honestly.

"Yes," I said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, because it _was_ the most obvious thing in the world.

"Right. Well that was one mighty big crash you had."

"Yeah. Well, thankfully my life's over now."

"What are you _talking_ about?" Sirius' eyebrows knitted together in complete confusion.

"Oh don't play dumb – you_ know_ I'm dead," I sulked.

And then he smacked me upside on the back of my head.

"Ow! What was that for!?"

The afterlife was turning out to be more painful than it was worth.

Sirius rolled his eyes impatiently. It wasn't my fault – this whole 'death' thing was rather new to me, how was I supposed to know all the answers?

"Look around, you wang."

I complied, and noticed that indeed I was a 'wang'.

In fact, I might've even been a 'donkey-Dora', whatever that was.

(I assumed that it was bad and humiliating).

As I scanned my surroundings, it became extremely apparent that I was still in Hogwarts, in the Great Lake, and quite obviously on planet Earth.

Indeed, I was not at all dead. I checked my pulse. Yep, definitely living.

All I could manage was a meek, "Oh."

Sirius promptly laughed his head off.

"Shut up, I thought I was dead!" Didn't he care? This was significantly distressing.

"I know!" He continued his cackling before sobering up slightly, "Maybe you should take it easy with the broomsticks, eh?"

"Alright," I grumbled, resembling something not dissimilar to a drowned cat.

Note to self: submission to peer pressure equals bad.

--

_"**The Mastermind's guilt"**_

I looked at Peter and Sirius in the lake from my spot at the Beech Tree.

Peter didn't seem so happy about his crash into the lake, as he clung, frustrated, to … whatever that was Sirius was sitting on.

My stomach was in a significant amount of pain, due to the fact that the image of Peter speeding into the lake on a broomstick he couldn't control could most possibly be the funniest of all images I'd seen.

I chucked once more, and then turned to the grass field in front of me.

I frowned slightly, feeling a twinge of guilt.

The grass plain had been skilfully – if I may say so – transformed into an obstacle course of sorts, whereby people could enter and experience various charms and spells which made them do 'fun' things: be temporarily suspended in mid air, be tickled for twenty seconds, grow springs off their feet, et cetera, et cetera.

It was a fascinating display of magical skills, pretty much all _my_ magical skills – but I was just fine sitting here pretending I had absolutely no part in this whole thing.

--

**_"Hell hath no fury…"_**

I scanned the grounds, unable to believe they _were_ the grounds.

But in the great mess, there was only one thing – one person – I was looking for.

I was like a tiger and he was like my prey, and… analogies never work for this kind of thing, do they?

I was looking for him. So I could express various forms of hate.

Until finally I spotted him: standing proudly – arrogantly – at the opposite side of the lake, overseeing his chaos.

My mind was set, I began my journey to him.

Ironically, and extremely inconveniently, I tripped as I crossed the doorframe.

* * *

**_"Confessions & Expressions"_**

Well, I had to hand it to Pete: this plan was truly spectacular – in the never preceded kind of way.

Of course it was a team effort, but the unique idea…we'd never mastered something so complex; so visually rich.

However what I loved most about it was that it would certainly do more than just settle the score with Miss Evans.

But did I really care about settling scores with her anymore? The competitive part of my nature seemed completely diminished; and it scared me. It was scary.

I was so far past the 'crush' stage with this girl.

Her gorgeous hair, her determined eyes, her smart words – chosen carefully, when she wasn't completely flustered, the way she could think of endless insults to throw at me…which of course, I saw right through. It wasn't just the things I could see either, there was so much more than that…

Deep down she felt something for me, I knew it - I just wasn't sure how deep exactly those feelings were.

I sighed, ruffling my hair. Regardless of how buried those feelings were, I'd come to a conclusion: I wasn't going to make her love me. I _couldn't_ make her love me. Refraining from asking her out every thirty seconds had taught me a thing or two, the most important being what I liked to call "don't smother the lover". I could settle for being friends, if it meant that I could talk to her.

As long as we weren't enemies trying to kill each other through annoyance or deals or whatever, I could live.

"James Potter," the aforementioned girl-of-more-than-crush barely spat out, her voice indicating more so than the wand she had pressed into my throat that attempts to kill were quite apparent.

"Lily!" I tried to sound as pleasant as I could, knowing how in trouble with this witch I was. Unfortunately the fear in my voice was audible. And there goes my masculinity…

"What, exactly is this?!" she withdrew from her lethal proximity and crossed her hands over her chest, clearly unimpressed by the very impressive prank.

I'd have liked to have answered her question with: Just the best prank ever. _Ever._

But I didn't think she'd appreciate that very much, judging by the frustration exuding from each of her words.

"I do believe that the most appropriate term would be 'ultimate prank'."

I think I felt her fuming from a good forty centimetres away, and quickly added in my best 'please don't curse me!' voice, "Well, you know… the challenge was on, Lils."

"Yes, but this – _this –_" Lily Evans knew how to gesture, "is _dangerous_ and just…"

I couldn't help it; I smirked. She knew how fabulous this was. How much magical skill it demonstrated… Well, at least how much of Remus' magical skill it demonstrated.

"_Why are you smirking?!_"

Shit. I'd come across as arrogant again. And it was all I could do to refrain from laughing at Lily's near-perfect McGonagall impression.

"I -" I began to defend myself, but clearly she was having none of that.

"Look, I don't need this. I don't need this at all. I think the Headmaster ought to know about what's going on out here, since there's a good chance half the castle will be destroyed before lunch time."

I felt guilty; a new thing for me. Everything was new when it came to her. Especially how much of a girl I was turning into whenever I thought about her.

Lily promptly marched off at intense speeds towards the castle, leaving me to contemplate the situation.

I wasn't at all worried about what the Headmaster's reaction would be, since Sirius and I _had_ been to see him quite a few times regarding this type of prankster behaviour.

And then, for once, my thinking did me some good.

The Headmaster… technically, if she told him… that would be breaking the deal…

I whirled around and sprinted after Lily, not entirely sure why I cared if she lost or not.

--

Once again, I found myself extremely pissed off, walking at an incredible pace, wondering who exactly James thought he was.

_Who_ did_ he think he was!?_

I rounded a corner, and there he was. Leaning casually against the wall of the corridor. I had no idea how he had gotten there so fast to look so perfect…ly calm, but I ignored him, and continued my path to the Headmaster's office.

"Lily!" he called after me – like I had _not_ just blown up at him for his idiotic actions, "Wait up one second!"

He quickly caught up, keeping up with my pace effortlessly. The advantages of extra height and muscle.

If he thought I was about to have a chat about the weather, or how much he 'loved' me, he had another thing coming. Crazy or not, I would not converse with the reaper of havoc.

"I just wanted to inform you," why was he so persistent with the conversation-making? "that what your doing… kind of breaks the terms of the deal. In the most possible kind of way, since it's the Headmaster, I suppose…"

Oh crap. The deal… to think _I'd _be the one breaking it again.

"Anyway, since you're about to break it, I was just going to inform you that this means I win, and we'll be dating soon."

_That_ caught my attention.

I stopped, and snapped my head towards him.

Images flashed through my head like a movie trailer of the dream I had last night. James looking down at me, his eyes full of something I couldn't pinpoint – honesty?; me shoving him up against the doorframe, without leaving room for negative space between us.

I flushed, and subsequently wished I could run away. And yet there he stood, waiting for my reaction.

"Deal, or no deal, I'm telling Dumbledore. Even if it means I have to date _you_."

He appeared hurt, and I felt mean, but then his expression was replaced by a dazzling smile.

"Well, I feel the need to accompany you, then, since I'd like to present my side of the story should your account prove biased."

"Fine."

And so we continued walking.

And so we walked – literally – right into the Headmaster.

"Oh – I'm sorry professor!" I exclaimed, embarrassed that I'd pretty much crashed into the world's greatest wizard.

"That is no problem, Miss Evans. These corners are unpredictable!" Dumbledore smiled at me warmly.

He would _so_ be the best grandfather.

"'Sup Professor," James greeted with a tilt of his head.

"James! How's it going my boy?"

"Not bad, sir, not bad," James continued casually, as if Dumbledore was his best friend.

And then they did a handshake.

Not the generic, 'how do you do' shake that the rules of polite, advanced society would demand.

No, to my astonishment (and yet _again,_ _fear_ for my sanity – this bloody boy), it was more like a 'yo bro, wassup in da hood' kind of handshake.

My eyes widened to an impossible extent at this exchange, and I was so completely shocked that I hardly heard the conversation continue around me.

"So what brings you two inside when everyone seems to be _outside_?" Dumbledore asked James. He then added with a well-practised wink and twinkle of his eyes, "Or should I not ask?"

I had no idea the Hogwart's _Headmaster_ could use such innuendo.

James laughed, and for the first time ever, I saw him flush a faint pink.

"No, uh… no. Professor, Lily just wanted to inform you of something," James prompted.

"Oh – uh… yes, that's right," I glanced at James briefly, and my brain stopped working.

"….Yes?" Dumbledore encouraged.

Fantastic. Now the Headmaster thought I was an incompetent and in the meanwhile, is gangster-buddies with James.

"W-well," throw in a stutter for good measure, why don't I? "There seems to be a problem with the grounds sir."

"A problem?" Dumbledore's Santa Claus eyebrows knitted in a frown of confusion.

"Yes Sant-Sir," the price of letting your thoughts run wild, likening the eyebrows of your high school's Headmaster to the eyebrows of the one and only Father Christmas, a mythical character with rosy cheeks, comes a little too high.

"And… could you elaborate on this problem, Miss Evans?"

By this stage James was smirking in a ridiculously annoying fashion.

"Well, you see…_him_!"

I pointed dramatically at James, who was clearly stunned.

Dumbledore merely laughed. He definitely thought I was batty. Damn, no chances as Head Girl, then…

James recovered, and his smirk returned to aggravate me further.

I'd had it – between a Headmaster who laughed at me because I was crazy, and the smirking idiot who was the _reason_ I was crazy – I exploded.

Well, in a semi-polite kind of way.

"Professor, with all respect, _it's not funny! _There are people – Sirius Black – is _waterskiing_ on the lake… _Peter Pettigrew_, of all people, is being trusted on a broomstick. And then there's all sorts of curses being fired this way and then that. I mean, don't you think something should be done!?"

That was a little dramatic for my taste, but desperate times, desperate measures.

"Actually, Miss Evans, no I do not," he replied ever so calmly.

"What?" I couldn't believe my ears.

The Marauders had pretty much sent the entire school into total chaos, but that was _okay?! _

"I see no harm in a little spot of harmless fun every now and again, Miss Evans. Don't you agree?"

I nearly choked on the air I inhaled.

Coughing slightly, I shook my head, seeing no point in arguing with the headmaster.

"Excellent," he continued, his eyes infuriatingly placid, "Well, if you'll both excuse me – that waterskiing sounds … what's the word you use?"

"Awesome, Professor?" James offered.

Headmaster's pet.

"Ah yes, 'awesome'!"

And with that, Dumbledore – one of the greatest wizards there ever lived ever – walked out of the entrance to the castle to try his luck on the waves; a concept I couldn't quite get my head around.

I finally caught up with time, and made the mistake of looking at James.

He was smirking, hair perfectly ruffled, a look of triumphant I-told-you-so plastered to his face.

My patience had grown far too short for him.

"I _hate_ you, James Potter," I spat in the most horrible way I could – which wasn't very, since I'd been humiliated just moments earlier – before storming off in a way only I had mastered.

"Lily, wait!" he called after me, but there was no way I was waiting for him.

The sound of his footsteps following me subsided and I breathed a little easier: I'd lost him.

Some nerve that boy had.

I cried out in shock, and almost died, when 'that boy' decided to spontaneously appear in front of me.

How could he? Oh –

"I hate the fact that you know this castle inside out and back-to-front," I informed him, not at all impressed at his appearance, nor the fact that he had blocked my way.

"Anything else you hate me for?" he inquired. He left me no time to answer before he continued, "Listen, I know you're mad -"

_Mad?!_

Mad was a whole billion worlds back from whatever I was feeling now.

"- but please, just… listen."

"Listen to _what_, James?" I asked scathingly, "Your latest declaration of love? Tell me – did you write a poem this time?"

I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling somewhat triumphant with my choice of words.

"No, I -" James sighed, slightly pissed off.

I raised my eyebrows expectantly.

"You…" I prompted impatiently.

He snapped.

"I'm sorry you're so _bloody_ pissed off about this prank – even though you probably secretly think it's the most damn amazing thing you've ever seen – and I'm sorry I feel a hell of a lot for you – believe me, because this -" he gestured between us, " – is not at all good for my health."

Perhaps, had he said it any other way, I would have brushed his comments off lightly. But there was guilt in my gut.

"I'm _not_ pissed off about your pranks, _James!_"

I ignored the feeling in my stomach.

"Then what the hell is it?!"

"I don't know!"

We stared intensely at each other, in a short silence, before I continued.

"The bet. Deal. Whatever you want to call it."

He looked at me, completely disbelieving, or confused – I couldn't tell.

"Well, why did you agree to it then?" His voice was high-pitched, frustrated… and I would have laughed, except I was distracted by our argument.

"You were there – and Sirius too! All 'Mr Intimidation'!" I said accusingly, waving my arms spectacularly – yet another sign of my insanity.

"That may be so, but when you broke the deal, _you_ threatened _me_ to keep it going!"

"I was hardly going to lose! _I _don't lose. Especially when that would mean you would win."

Childish, but true.

I heard him mutter something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like 'bloody women'.

He looked at me squarely.

"So it's about winning then?"

What was that supposed to mean?

"Isn't that what it's always been about?"

He looked away, my guilt-gut felt worse, and I got the impression there was a lot more to it than winning.

But hadn't I known that already?

--

I looked back at her again. She couldn't be _that_ oblivious, could she? I mean, the girl was an academic – she had to have some wits about her.

I sighed heavily.

"No. It's not just about winning – as much as that would be nice. I don't know if you've noticed that I have spent a whole lot of time with you since this thing started."

"Yeah, I had noticed that one…" she mentioned, her mind absent.

"Yeah, well – I _know_ you now – more than ever -"

She opened her mouth to protest, but I held up an arm to stop her, which to my surprise _actually_ worked.

"- And if I thought I had feelings for you before… let's just say that was tiny; insignificantly small compared to what I feel now."

I deliberately excluded the word 'love' from my statement, anticipating the scepticism that word would stir in her.

Lily remained silent; stunned, if that was possible for her.

"But the thing is," I continued, taking advantage of her silence, "I'm not going to make you love me – I clearly can't, since I've tried just about everything. I can settle for friends, if that's the best relationship I can have with you."

There, that sounded very un-arrogant-ish.

Lily remained thoughtful before she responded.

"Friends…" she played with the sound the word created.

My stomach sank. She was going to laugh in my face, I knew it.

That's what I get for putting my cards on the table.

"Can we be friends?" I asked, in spite of myself.

She hesitated, and my self-doubt skyrocketed.

"Yes, James, I believe we can, on one condition."

And so my heart promptly skipped a beat.

--

James looked like he could jump over the moon – a look which made him far too handsome.

"Okay, what's the condition?"

"The deal's off."

"Okay, deal."

I rolled my eyes.

"Friends?" he extended his hand.

That sounded like a good.

"Friends," I smiled and shook his hand.

A couple of seconds later and our hands were still together.

And then I saw his perfectly messy hair, his eyes glimmering with happiness, his defined jaw-line, and the doorframe directly behind him.

--

Words couldn't really describe the shock that being shoved (none too carefully) against the doorframe and being lip-smashed by Lily Evans created.

My mind whirled into some other dimension, and I thought I was dead (something that, ordinarily, only Peter would think).

But death couldn't be this nice.

Unfortunately, the need for oxygen prevailed and I managed to pull away, gasping for air.

"Friends?" I asked, with an eyebrow raised sceptically.

"Screw it," she paused, "I think _I _should get to decide our relationship status."

A woman in charge… _Nice._

"And what would be your decision?"

"Well… I was thinking something along the lines of 'more than friends'."

I raised my hands in surrender, unable to hide my smile.

"No problems here." – and there _really _weren't.

"Good," she leaned in (or up, for height reasons) and kissed me again, something I wasn't sure I could ever get used to.

Thankfully practise makes perfect.

"So…" I murmured between our lip-age, "Any ideas as to what we can do to fill in time now?"

I received a whack on the head for that and winced. Apparently her kisses made me lose control over thought and speech, allowing me to say things I really shouldn't.

"Too sleezy?" I ventured.

"Too sleezy," she clarified, but kissed me again anyway.

* * *

**The end.**

* * *

_**A/N: Well there you have it. It's complete. Yay! There's probably going to be an epilogue chapter posted, which is why this won't be marked as "complete". Let me know what you'd like to see happen, and I'll see if I can work it in.**_

_**100 Love,**_

_**Michelle**_

* * *


End file.
